


Paparazzi

by icyfox22



Series: Paparazzi [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Alternate Universe - No Sgrub Session, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Manipulation, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Abuse, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-08-29 12:49:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 44,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8490502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icyfox22/pseuds/icyfox22
Summary: I'm your biggest fan, I'll follow you until you love me....





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got the inspiration for this during a 7 hour drive from Maryland to Massachusetts... while listening to Paparazzi by Lady Gaga as the name no doubt implies. I'm hoping to stay a chapter ahead and post every Sunday because I totally have a record of being great with deadlines. 
> 
> Enjoy!

_Just accept the award and give your speech. Award. Speech. Go home. You can always go home after the speech. Nobody will expect you to stay. You never do._

You repeat the mantra in your head, frowning at yourself in the mirror. It would be even easier to just not show up. They’d expect that too. Wouldn’t be the first award show you missed. Karkat made you promise you’d go though. He’d understand if you bailed.

“Don’t even think about it.” He glares at you from the door, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror. You heave a sigh and turn around.

“I wasn’t real-“

“Dave.”

“Okay, but, consider this,” you say, throwing an arm around his shoulders. His frown deepens as you lead him over to the bed and sit him down. “We could stay here and rag on everyone and how they’re dressed. No one would ever have to know. Order some pizza. Have a relaxing night in, just the two of us.”

“Dave, you said you’d go. You said we’d both go. Together.”

“We could watch Titanic.”  He huffs, pushing your arm off him and rises to his feet. Your eyes follow him as he crosses the room and stops at the closet.

“Or we could go,” he says, pulling out a tie and pair of shoes. “Like you said we would two months ago.” He sits down at the desk and starts putting his shoes on.

“Draw me like one of your French girls, Karkat.”

“We’re going to the Oscars, Dave,” he grumbles, tightening the laces on his shoes. “And we’ll stay the whole time. Once the award is announced, we can leave. Like we planned.” You can feel your heart rate increasing, adrenalin coursing through your body. You play with your sunglasses as a distraction. Karkat stands up and moves over to the mirror, holding the tie up.

“Do you think I’d be fine without a tie or would that be too casual?” he asks, grabbing another tie out of the closet. He holds both of the up and looks to you. “Which do you prefer?”

Welp. There’s no getting out of this it seems. Karkat’s pretty set on going. Guess you have to go. It’s only for a few hours. A few hours of hundreds of celebrities and cameras. So many cameras.

_Accept the award and give your speech. Accept the award and give your speech._

“You’re just going to end up taking the dumb thing off so I don’t know why you’re bothering.”

“I don’t want people talking and saying I don’t know how to dress appropriately.” You scoff, taking the ties out of his hand and setting them down.

“You’re fine how you are,” you say, fixing his collar and attempting to smooth out his hair. It’s a lost cause, the ends just pop right back up. Not even products could fix that unruly mess.

“Kanaya better not call me in the morning.”

“Well… there _is_ a solution to this whole thing.”

“We’re going, Dave,” he says, frowning up at you. He takes your shades out of your hand and places them on your face. “Now let’s go, we’re going to be late.”

 

The only thing worse that being up for an award is being up for three. The only thing worse than that is when one of them is at the beginning and one is at the end. Staying for the entire thing wasn’t something you really wanted to do.

“Five nominees and not a single award,” you grumble, slouching down in your seat. “Do we really have to be here? I could have just as easily been humiliated from home.”

“There’s only two that matter to you specifically anyways, so I don’t know why you’re so upset,” Karkat grumbles back, elbowing you in the side. “Now sit up and stop acting like a child.”

A new pair of announcers approach the podium, beginning their speech about whatever the next category is. You’re not even sure where in the program you are anymore. Everything’s just sort of blurred together at this point. Doesn’t matter anyways, none of these categories matter to you.

“My lead actor was so much better than that guy! God, the people who give out these awards have no class.”

“You can’t win every award, you know.” You fall silent, clapping with the crowd as the winner is announced. All cameras turn to her as she smiles and rises from her seat, approaching the stage. She wipes away a few tears, giving her speech about adversity and struggling to make it to where she is today. How typical.

“I don’t want every award… I think he just deserved it more than the other guy. He’s a better actor.”

“Why don’t you ever give heartwarming speeches?” he asks, as the girl finishes her speech. She steps of the stage, award in hand, and makes her way back to her seat.

“Do you really want me to do that?”

“Only if you were actually sincere about it.”

_“Next up are the nominees for Best Screenplay! But first, here’s a word from our sponsors!”_

“Oh, look at that,” you say, stretching and rising from your seat. “Time for a bathroom break.” Others are rising from their seats as well, a murmur going through the crowd. Normally, you’d hate commercial breaks like this but it really is a chance for everyone to stretch and move about. Also a good time to disappear long enough to miss the award winning announcement. Karkat must be on the same wavelength because he grabs your sleeve to stop you from leaving.

“I won’t be your proxy again.” It’s so cute how well he knows you.

“I’ll be right back, promise,” you respond, giving him a small smile. He frowns but let’s go of your sleeve, reluctantly. You give him a small wave and follow the crowd out of the auditorium, nerves gradually increasing.

 _Award. Speech. Go home._  

The hallway is somewhat crowded, various celebrities milling about and stretching their legs. Some carry their awards, getting stopped every few feet to be congratulated and chat. The pressing need of your bladder prevents you from talking to anyone. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t prefer it that way.

The bathroom is thankfully easy to located and empty when you walk in. Nothing but your reflection greets you as you head back to one of the stalls. You steadfastly ignore it. The bathroom door swings open and slides shut. You take a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

_They don’t know it’s you in here. Everything is fine. Nothing is wrong. You’re safe._

Footstep draw closer to you, stopping right outside the stall you’re in. Black shoes. Of course they’re black shoes. Not much to go off of there. The guy mutters something under his breath and turns around, shoes squeaking against the floor until the door opens and shuts again.

You leave the stall and quickly wash your hands, trying desperately to stop the shaking. The door opens again. You watch the guy walk right past you through the mirror. You’re not sure who he is, probably some up and coming actor or whatever. He can’t be up for an award though or you’d definitely know who he is. Must be someone’s guest or something.

Bladder empty. Hands washed and dried. You leave the bathroom, and head back to the auditorium. Just in time to see Karkat accepting an award on stage. Jesus. How long were you gone? You should probably go join him on stage. At least be there with him. Would that be weird? Well.. this is you you’re talking about… how weird would people actually think it is?

“I’m honored, once again, to accept this award on Dave’s behalf,” he begins, all signs of grumpiness gone. You’ll never understand how he can put up such a façade. He pulls a stack of cards out of his pocket. A smile crosses your face. “I’d read the speech he wrote for me, but I think we all know how likely that is to happen… Dave couldn’t be here tonight, because apparently taking a piss is more important than some award. Either way, I’m sure he’s thankful to everyone who helped him with this project. The years it took to write the damn script… multiple times. There were so many rewrites, I can’t even tell you. Countless sleepless night spent up, listening him monologue the whole thing. I never thought I’d sleep again.”

The crowd erupts in laughter, small laughter, but laughter nonetheless. Karkat always gives better speeches than you. It’s probably the dry sense of humor he uses to deliver them… or maybe it’s how lovingly he speaks to the crowd about your antics. You’ll never know because he never gives a straight answer.

“And then the day finally came, I had managed to just fall asleep, he burst into the room, script in hand, and said ‘Karkat! I need you to kiss this for good luck!’ I would have cried if he hadn’t proceeded to flop down into bed next to me and pass the fuck out. Best night of sleep I’ve ever had.” He turns to head of the stage, pauses and leans back over to the mic. “And yes, I did kiss it for good luck, how else would that shit have won this award?”  

God, you love him so much. He steps off the stage and makes his way back to your seats. You intercept him in the aisle, take the award and plant a kiss on his forehead.

“Thanks,” you say, pulling him into a hug. He grumbles into your shoulder before pulling away and going over to your seats. You happily follow after him, your hand linked with his. At least everyone knows you’re together, and that you couldn’t give two shit about what they all think. Not like you’ve ever kept your private life much of a secret. Less chance of people trying to dig up dirt that way. It’s how the both of you prefer it.

“Next time you can have your potty break _after_ the award is announced.”

“Aww, but they love your speeches.”

“Yet you continue to write speeches for me,” he says, as the next award nominees are announced.

“Someday you’ll read one of mine to the crowd.”

“What took you so long anyways?”

“Perfection like this needs to be maintained every couple hours,” you say. “I had to look good for the camera. People around here will talk otherwise.” He’s giving you that look. The one that says he’s five kinds of unconvinced and unimpressed.

“Yet you wouldn’t let me wear a fucking tie.”

“Ties are overrated, and you look better without one.”

“ _You’re_ wearing a tie!”

“Dude,” you say, turning to face him. “Does this look like the outfit that can go without a tie?” A chill runs down your back, the hairs on the back of your neck rising. The smile on your face falls, anxiety filling your very being. Swallowing thickly, you let out a short breath and face the stage again, heartrate steadily increasing.

Someone’s watching you…. Or maybe it’s just your nerves. You glance around trying to find someone, anyone who might be looking your way. All eyes are on the stage though. When did the stage get so far away? No, no, focus. Find the person. Be prepared. God. Why does everything seem so fuzzy?

“Dave?”

Karkat? You try looking at him, but everything feels sluggish. He sounds so far away. Fuck. That’s not good. A camera passes by, filming the crowd. A flash of blonde hair passes before your eyes.

_Smile for the camera._

You blink and Karkat’s got you by the hand, leading you quickly down a hallway. He stays silent, stopping in front of the bathroom from earlier. You let him sit you down on the floor and watch him wet a paper towel, handing it to you.

“Just breath,” he says, as you take the wet cloth. Heaving a sigh, you place the paper towel on the back of your neck. The coolness is grounding. Karkat paces before you, checking all the stalls and making sure the place is empty before locking the door. Relief and fear flood through you, but he means well. It’s better if nobody walks in right now anyways.

You take several deep breaths, eyes fall shut. Karkat’s pacing lulls you into a sense of calm. It’s rhythmic. Nice. The footsteps come to a stop, and when you open your eyes again, he’s kneeling in front of you. At least he’s keeping his distance, you think. Or maybe not…. you can’t really tell, to be honest. Karkat knows better than to get in your face right now though.

“Can you tell me your name?” His voice is closer now, but it still sounds so far away.

“Dave,” you mutter. Or you think you say. Your body isn’t exactly cooperating with you right now. A small smile crosses his face so you must have responded.

“Who am I?”

“Karkat,” you breath out, head clearing up now. You’re starting to feel more yourself again. It must show because he scoots closer.

“And where are we?”

“On the floor of a bathroom.”

“Do you need a minute?” he asks, rising to is feet. You think, eyes following him as he begins to pace once again. He’s probably trying to decide if it’s time to go home or not. Truthfully, you just want to sleep for five days. Yeah, that sounds pretty nice right about now.

“Can we go home now?”

 

Karkat’s sitting on the couch, your head resting in his lap. He’s got _Titanic_ on because you said you’d watch it with him. There’s not much watching going on on your part, but it’s still nice. Your shades rest on the table. They’re too annoying to wear when you’re laying down. Besides, Karkat hates when you wear them around him. His fingers brush through your hair, gently undoing any knots they may come across. It’s relaxing. So much so that you’ve been napping through the whole movie.

“Did it start sinking?” you ask, softly.

“Five more minutes.”

“How many times have you even watched this movie?”

“In total or this year?” he asks, voice smug. Always with the vague answers. You’re convinced he’s too embarrassed to tell you the truth. Considering the both of you have watched it at least three times together, you’re guessing the number’s fairly high. He had it memorized long before the first time you watched with him. Your phone lights up. From this angle you can just barely make out the notification for a text.

“John’s been texting you all morning.” You sigh, stretching your legs out before pulling the blanket tighter around you.

“What does he want?”

“He probably wants to congratulate you,” he says, with a shrug. “Nepeta called around nine to say the movie won Best Picture. She hopes you’re feeling better by the way.”

“I could probably sleep for a few more hours.”

“You’ve been sleeping since we got home last night… why don’t you eat something?” Actually… now that he mentions it, you are kind of hungry. Food sounds pretty good right now.

“Did you have anything in mind?”

“I could really go for some Chinese. Maybe some Lo Mein and spring rolls?”

“I’m not making spring rolls, Dave. Do you know how long that would take?” he grumbles. Sighing, you roll onto your back and stare up at him. He keeps his eyes focused on my movie, frown growing on his face.

“Do we have any shrimp? Can we at least have shrimp Lo Mein?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever you want,” he replies, pausing the movie and rising from the couch. He kindly places a pillow under your head and goes into the kitchen.

“Except spring rolls apparently,” you call after him.

“DO YOU WANT YOUR FUCKING FOOD OR NOT?”

 

Karkat really does make the best food. The two of you are sitting on the floor, a shared plate of food between you. It really is the ideal way to eat. Karkat’s never truly minded anyways, it’s less mess to clean up later. That’s what he says at least. You’re convinced he tolerates it because it gives you some solace.

He currently has a forkful of noodles hanging halfway to his mouth, full attention on the movie. Of course, he made you pause the movie so he could cook. He’s only watched this movie a hundred times. Yet he tears up every single time Rose lets Jack go…. And when the ship starts sinking… and when Rose throws the necklace into the ocean. Oddly enough, Rose and Jack’s reunion does nothing for him. The music is always what does it for you.

“You gonna eat that?” You ask. He blinks, eyes wandering down to the food in his hand. He looks at the plate, then at you.

“Dave,” he says. “You’ve eaten more than half of it… do you really need my share too?”

“Growing boys need to eat,” you respond, shrugging.

“You stopped growing eight years ago.” You huff and take another bite of food, unable to think of a good enough comeback. He leans over, and steals a piece of shrimp off your fork, eyes alight in mirth. Your phone buzzes on the table. Oh yeah… John was trying to talk to you. Should probably reply…

“Gonna get that?” Karkat mutters as he pulls the plate of food over to himself. “Also I’m eating the rest of this because fuck you and that bottomless pit you call a stomach.”

“Don’t really feel like talking to him right now…” you mutter back, picking your phone up. You’ve got eleven texts from him. If he never gets a response, he’ll just keep sending texts. They’ll become more and more convoluted too. You sigh, and send a quick reply saying you’ll talk later. It is movie night… erm… day, after all.  

“Well… we _are_ in the middle of a movie, so I guess I can understand.”

“Need I remind you of how many times we’ve watched this? I get next pick.”

“As long as it’s not one of your shitty movies.”

“Shitty movies don’t win awards.”

“They win Razzies, and I distinctly recall a few of your movies being up for one of those.”

“Those were darker times, Karkat. We don’t talk about those,” you say, shushing him. Oh god, you never want to relive those experiences. #Regrets. You locked yourself in your room for a week… Karkat had to talk you out of leaving. Never again. “Besides, I wanna watch _Jurassic World_.”

“Yeah, okay. I can deal with that.”

 

Blanket forts truly are the greatest thing to ever be invented. They’re dark and full of pillows and blankets and just so cozy. You sigh, sinking into the cocoon of blankets you’re currently wrapped in. On the other side of the room, Karkat grumbles as he attempts to get the TV into the fort for optimum movie watching. Blanket forts _are_ the best way to watch movies after all. He lets out a cry of triumph, letting the blanket fall and settle in its spot on the TV. Miraculously, the thing holds just fine… and it only took five attempts.

“Told you it would work,” he says, voice muffled by the fabric. He shuffles around to the entrance and crawls in, settling down next to you.

“Yeah, an hour later.”

“You’re the one who decided we needed a fort for watching movies,” he snaps, hands feeling around for the remote.

“It makes watching so much better,” you reply, handing the remote to him. He mutters his thanks and turns the DVD player on. The movie starts up right away, music blaring from the surround sound. He falls silent, listening intently to the opening scene. After _Jurassic World_ he had insisted on watching something else, something you were all too happy to oblige. His pick? _The Hunger Games._ You have mixed feelings about the movie but at least the plot is interesting enough to watch.

“Are you okay with this?” he asks.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you ask back, glancing in his direction. He shrugs, biting his lip, eyes focused on the movie. You sit up and lean forward but he looks away, refusing to make eye contact. “Karkat?”

“This movie’s kinda… violent, don’t you think?” You blink. Katniss just volunteered. You huff out a laugh and sit up fully.

“Are you worried?”

“I didn’t think you’d actually agree to watching it.”

“So you recommended it anyways? Are you worried it’ll fucking _trigger_ me or some bullshit? You need to stop talking to Kankri.”

“I just… wasn’t sure how you’d feel given the content… and how you were last night…” he grumbles, face going red. Sometimes you seriously wish you could kiss him to death. Though that would be sad… so maybe not. Still, it gets you every time he does something like this…. Caring about you like he does. Actually considering your feelings.

“Well,” you say, leaning against his shoulder. “If I need to close my eyes, I’ll let you know, okay? For now, let’s just watch the movie.” He sighs and puts an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. You draw one of the blanket up over the both of you and settle into his side, focusing on the movie.

 

“Do you believe this nonsense?!” you shout, gaze locked on your phone.

“I can’t see through walls, Dave,” Karkat shouts back, over the sound of running water. Frankly, you’re amazed you heard him at all, through the blanket fort _and_ from the kitchen. The water stops. “What are you whining about now?” You wiggle your way to the entrance and poke your head out, handing him your phone.

“Do you see what they’re saying?”

“So they’re bitching over your antics,” he says. He moves to hand your phone back when the ringer goes off. You scowl. Somedays you love listening to that ringtone. Today, however, as that shitty 8-bit version of Katy Perry’s _I Kissed a Girl_ plays through the silence, you regret making it for Rose. Karkat stares at your phone; at Rose’s name lit up on the screen. He looks to you. You stare back silently willing him to send it to voicemail.

“Hey, Rose.” Damn. One could only hope. He listens to whatever she’s saying, glancing at you every so often. “Fine,” is all he says before disappearing back into the kitchen. Some part of you should be annoyed that he took your phone. It’s such a common occurrence though. You’re tempted to follow but they’re no doubt talking about last night. That’s not exactly a one sided conversation you want to listen to. Karkat grumbles some reply as you heave out a sign and climb out of the fort.

“I’ll be back,” you mutter to it, gently patting the precariously placed blankets. Karkat’s glaring at the fridge when you wander by. It’s one of those “deep in thought” glares rather than his usual perma-scowl. As long as he’s not pissed, you don’t care.

The door to your office swings open, catching a folder and pushing it across the floor. Papers lay scattered about in various states of… crumpled is the best word you can think of. Most of them are in balls, discarded ideas and scenes that never made it into the final draft. You should probably clean them up but the packrat in you can’t bring yourself to do it. Doesn’t matter though, Karkat will clean it up during one of his neat freak fits.

Your desk is about the only thing in this room’s that organized. Notebooks sit on top of it collecting dust. The newest one sits next to your laptop, the titled scrawled across it in your chicken scratch handwriting. Karkat is constantly getting on your case about wasting paper and saving trees, but you find writing scripts helps the thought process way more than typing.

You run your fingers over the cover and plop down into your chair. Pushing the notebook aside you open your laptop and turn it on. The fan screams as it comes to life. You’ll need a new laptop soon but you’ll worry about that when the thing dies for good. Today isn’t that day though as the thing finally logs you in.

“Dave.” You freeze. “Don’t do this right now.” What were you even doing? You aren’t even sure. Not until that website loads onto your screen. You see it for all of two seconds before your laptop slams shut. Before your subconscious catches up to you Karkat grabs your hand and drags you out of the room. Steams rises from the tub as you come to a stop in the bathroom. He busies himself with grabbing towels while you undress and get in the water. There’s so much lavender in here you can practically taste it. He sits next to you on the floor, scrolling through his phone.

“I want a Jacuzzi tub,” you say.

“The bathroom isn’t big enough.”

“Then we’ll move.” He doesn’t say anything, eyes trained on his Facebook news feed. You slid further into the tub, resting your head on the edge. He begins tapping away furiously on your phone. It’s probably something Kankri said. Only he could get such a rise out of Karkat like that. “We could get an actual house,” you say.

“We don’t even have enough shit to fill a fucking house, Dave,” he grumbles, frowning down at you.

“We could get a dog.”

“I hate dogs,” he says. “And you can’t even take care of a goldfish.”

“Goldfish are surprisingly high maintenance, you know,” you say. He sighs, setting his phone down and looking directly at you.

 “You don’t even _like_ moving. Remember last time?”

“We could get a condo,” you say. “You’d have your own office to work on stuff.”

“Yes, because I need another room to clean. What is this _really_ about?” You shrug because you really don’t know. Moving just seems like a great idea right now. “Don’t...” Your breath hitches. You look up at him and find him gazing at you. He brings a hand up and wipes a tear off your cheek. What the hell… When did you even start crying? “We’ll talk about this later. When you’re feeling better, okay?”

You sit up suddenly, water sloshing over the side of the tub. Your hands are shaking as you wipe away the tears. He reaches into the tub and you flinch. Full bodied flinch away from him. He says nothing, pulling the plug and letting the water drain. You try to calm your breathing, eyes boring a whole into the drain. Karkat grabs on of the towels and places it over your shoulders. The action brings you back. Grounds you. You let out a long, slow breath and begin to feel a bit better.

Karkat places a fresh set of clothes on the sink and leaves you to get dressed. You really don’t know what you did to deserve such a great boyfriend, but you’re glad he’s here. Who knows what fate would have befallen you if he hadn’t forced his way into your life. You smile to yourself at the memory.

 

Karkat’s taken down the blanket fort by the time you finally emerge from the bathroom. It’s been replaced by the fluffiest blanket/pillow setup you’ve ever seen. There has to be at least ten layers of blankets… well maybe not ten layers, but enough that you’re sure you’ll sink into it when you sit down. Pillows line the edges, resting against the couch. He’s made the world’s fluffiest nest.

“I love you,” you blurt out.

“Please,” he says, stepping out of the kitchen. “Tell me something I don’t know.” He’s holding a wine glass full of apple juice, and a tray of cheese and crackers. He sets the food on the coffee table, pushed off to the side but still close to the nest, and hands you your drink. You mutter your thanks and sink onto the mountain of fluff as he disappears back into the kitchen.

“Are we really doing this?” you ask as he returns with a glass of his own and a bottle of wine. He rolls his eyes and sits next to you, pouring himself a glass.

“Take these,” he says instead, handing you two pills. You don’t want them, but you take them because it’s something that’d make him happy. It saves you both an argument to just cooperate. “I thought it’d be relaxing… how are you feeling?”

“Tired,” you admit, laying down. This has got to be the most comfortable pile you’ve ever been in. He hands you a cracker with some cheese on it. You can’t help but snicker as you graciously accept the offering. Karkat watches you the whole time you’re eating them. Some people would probably find his worry to be annoying but you’ve grown to enjoy the fuss. At least you know he cares. He helps himself to the snack as well, sipping at his drink. You rest your head on his lap and close your eyes. Just sitting here is so nice. You could almost fall asleep.

Karkat’s phone rings out in the silence. Because apparently the two of you can’t have a moment of peace. Ever.

“What,” he snaps into the phone. His hand comes down to card through your hair. It’s soothing. Almost relaxing enough to fall asleep… almost. “No. I’m busy.” A muffled reply and Karkat’s hand freezes. You peek up at him. “I don’t really care,” he mutters darkly. His whole body settles into that ‘family business’ persona that lurks under the surface. So it’s either his dad or an underling. Judging by the growing disdain on his face, you assume it to be the latter.

“How important is it?” You’re not quite sure what type of face he’s making now, but he starts playing with your hair again. Can’t be too bad then. “If I come down there and nobody’s dying, heads are gonna roll. Think carefully. I’m not in the mood to fuck around,” he says venomously. You try and fail to decipher the panicked response. Karkat heaves out the longest suffering sigh possibly ever. Guess it’s time to get dressed for real.

“I’m coming,” you say as soon as he hangs up.

“You up for it?”

“You kidding? I love visiting the in-laws,” you reply, rising to your feet. It’s better than laying around all day. Karkat’s giving you a skeptical look but gets up as well. “Besides the fresh air will do my some good.”

He really can’t argue with that logic it seems. He puts his shoes on while you go to the bedroom for real clothes. PJs just won’t do for your image. Karkat’s waiting by the door when you emerge, keys in hand. You slip your shades back on, grab your phone, and follow him out the door.

******

The room is mostly dark. The TV, turned down to a low volume, illuminates the area that is laptop can’t. A cloud of smoke drifts about making everything look as hazy as he feels.

He scrolls through Google, only vaguely aware of what he’s seeing. Various headlines pop up occasionally, but they go ignored. He stops scrolling and stares at one in particular before going to the search bar and looking up something else. The website loads. That same stupid message that’s been showing for years now glares mockingly back at him.

_We have decided to seek other opportunities and will no longer be in operation. Thanks for your years of patronage._

He can’t recall how many years he spent on this website. How many hours were wasted away searching through the archives for his favorite videos? He can’t remember and everything has long since been taken down. At first he had been angry. Indignant. How could someone just up and quit like that? He tried reaching out to the owner. Just for one more chance. One more video or perhaps them all. He promised not to share them. They were meant only for his eyes and his eyes only. He was refused on many occasions. Eventually, replies stopped all together. The email no longer worked, so he gave up on that front.

It wasn’t until a couple years had gone by that it all clicked into place. A new movie came out, broke box office records, and with it rose a new fame. He was doubtful at first. The blond hair could have been anyone, and the ever present shades made discerning his eye color difficult. Someone got a photo though, of him at the beach. He sat on a blanket, hand in hand with another man, and though he wore a shit, it was undeniably the boy from the videos.

He’d seen enough videos, watched them many times, to recognize the set of his shoulders. A scar peeked out from under his shirt collar, stopping just at the nape of his neck. One wouldn’t even know it was there if they didn’t know where to look. It was all the confirmation he needed.

He blows out a cloud a smoke and closes the website, pulling up another search.

His boyfriend is the bigger problem. The two are practically attached at the hip. Rumors were flying around that they were planning to get married in the coming months. There’s been no official announcement. He scowls, glaring at the search results of them together.

Another hit from his joint and he’s scrolling again. The couple was oddly discrete despite being so open about everything. They revealed just enough about their personal lives that the paparazzi pretty much left them alone. Secrets ran much deeper than that though.

He opens an article, one from the awards show. That night he had been close. In a rare moment of separation, he found the blond along in the bathroom. How easy it would have been. He was tempted, right then and there, but gave pause. The area was too public. There were too many witnesses. His lover would have come looking for him. No. this required finesse and careful planning.

He prints the article and adds it to the ever growing board. Rushing this isn’t going to work. He’s willing to wait. The opportune moment would present itself. When it did, he’d be ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here I am with a brand new fanfiction in a fandom that it questionably dying... (because, you know, I thought it was over and then snapchat happened... ) but anyways, this story has a ton more effort put into than my other one does. 
> 
> I'm sure many of you reading were wondering, "Why the hell is Dave so dependent on Karkat?" and "Who is that mystery person at the end of the chapter?" I promise these questions will be anwsered... well maybe not the first but definitely the latter. Also, the story is just downhill from here so get ready. 
> 
> Also tags will be added as I think of them, I don't plan on ever being explicit with certain events in the story but that is subject to change. 
> 
> Until next time!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is brought to you by Karkat's family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit... I'm actually a bit blown away that people seem to like this story. I'm particularly excited for this one because it's written more in my style as opposed to my other one. It's exciting to see how people will actually react to my writing style since I do plan on publishing a book someday. 
> 
> So thanks to everyone who's left kudos and comments! I appreciate both!

Karkat shakes you awake. Evidently, you’d fallen asleep at some point during the drive. Must be the meds finally kicking in. He waits while you force your body to get out of the car. Karkat’s childhood home is a mansion. He swears up and down that it’s just a big house, but you’re thoroughly convince it’s a mansion. You cannot be persuaded otherwise. A cacophony of shouting and yelling greets you as the door swings open.

“Home sweet home,” Karkat grumbles. People rush about in the foyer. Only a few pause long enough to greet you both before running off again. “Hey,” he says turning to you. “Do you wanna finish napping?”

“I’m kinda thirsty actually,” you say. “I think I’ll just head to the kitchen for a bit.”

“Okay…. Just don’t let anyone bother you. You know where to find my room.” He gives you a quick peck on the cheek and heads up the stairs. You watch him go until he disappears around a corner before heading into the kitchen.

Kankri’s sitting at the island, papers scattered all over the surface when you walk in. He glances up at you, looks back to the open folder in front of him, and then does a double take, eyes wide.

“Sup?”  

“Dave,” he says, regaining his composure. “To what do we owe this visit?” You shrug and help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. You grab a bottle of apple juice, the ones that have your name permanently scrawled on them. Nobody would dare touch it. “Karkat didn’t tell you?”

“Why would he?” you ask, stepping away with a bottle of juice. “I’m not involved in the family business.” He tsks.

“Being part of the family one would assume you’d be privy to our dealings.” You roll your eyes and take a seat next to him.  

“Except I’m not _actually_ part of the family,” you tell him.

“When _is_ the wedding by the way?” Kankri’s certainly come a long way from his college days. At the very least, he’s become more tolerable to be around. You can’t be certain if it’s just him treating you differently or he’s actually calmed down from his social justice crusade. It’s probably some combination of both, but you don’t dare mention it lest he launch into one of his lectures.

You fiddle with your drink, twisting the cap around until it finally opens. It’s not exactly an easy answer to give anyways. You’ve always wanted to give him something memorable and he’s…. well you’re not really sure why he hasn’t popped the question. Eventually one of you will have to man up and do it though. You just want to make it perfect.

“Still figuring out how to ask,” you admit. “It has to be just right.”

“I’m sure he’ll love whatever you do for him.”

“Doesn’t matter, I want it to be everything he’s ever dreamed of.” You take a sip of your juice. “What are all these papers anyways?”

“Case files.”

“About?”

“Dave. Are you asking me to disclose confidential information? That would be a break of client confidentiality.”

“It’s all part of the family business, isn’t it?” you ask. He’s got a look on his face like he wants to say something but he’s holding back. You wait. A short, portly man walks through the door just then. He looks between the two of you and slowly backs out, scuttling off to parts unknown.

“When Karkat inherits the business, then maybe I’ll tell you,” he finally says.

“I’ll hold you to it,” you reply. Silence stretches between you both. Kankri packs his stuff up and sets them aside, going to the fridge for a snack. He pulls out a box of leftover pizza and offers you a slice. “No thanks.”

“Are-“ A maid rushes into the kitchen suddenly, eyes bright in alarm. Kankri levels a glare on her.

“Excuse me, sir,” she says. “But your presence is being requested.”

“I will let it pass,” he says, voice eerily quiet. “However I must insist you remember your place. Do not interrupt me again. It is quite rude.”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir,” she sputters out, bowing deeply before him.

“I’m sorry, Dave,” Kankri says, voice completely devoid of the hatred from moments ago. “But I must take my leave, please help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge if you wish. Shall I tell my brother you will be downstairs?”

“Yeah.” He flashes you a quick smile and leaves. The maid stands there, gaze trained fully on the floor. “You’ll get used to it,” you tell her, standing up and drawing her gaze to you. She freezes, eyes going wide, mouth dropping.

“Are you…” she mutters, taking a tentative step forward. “ _The_ Dave Strider?” Ugh. She’s definitely new around here. Most of their workers have known you well since before your fame. You’ve always been the quiet kid who hangs out with their loud one.

“The one and only.”

“Um…” she fidgets, gaze roaming everywhere but on you. “Can… would… would it be too much to ask for a picture? With you? … me with you. A picture of me with you. Please?” She looks so hopeful. So star struck. It would suck to crush her dreams.  

“No.”

“Oh…” The hope dies on her face completely. You can’t be bothered to care right now. Allowing even one picture from someone here would be the end of everything. Covers would be blown. Secrets would come out. People would know… you suck in a breath, count to ten and clear your mind of that train of thought. Now is not the time.

You leave her there and wander over to the basement stairs. Karkat always insisted on living down there. Any attempt to get an explanation out of him usually lands you a glare and punch to the shoulder. You spent many sleepless nights in his room, wishing there were windows to see outside. Now though, after so many years, it’s practically your home away from home.

Karkat’s room is as clean as ever in that it’s a total mess. If you hadn’t been living together, you’d assume he slept here regularly. The blankets on the bed lay in a crumbled mess. Pillows line the headboard. You place your drink on the night stand and flop down onto the bed. It’s as comfy as you remember it being. You’re out like a light in a matter of moments.

 

It’s too dark and too quiet when you wake up. An arm draped over your stomach has you pinned to whoever’s sleeping behind you. In a moment of panic, you bring your hand down across their cheek. The resounding slap fills the silence. The person shifts, hissing out a pained breath and sits up. The light flickers on and Karkat’s sitting before you, glower planted firmly on his face as he rubs his cheek.

“What the fuck, Dave,” he whispers. You sit up as well.

“Just had to make sure you were there,” you reply. His glare would probably be more impressive if he didn’t look so tired. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he says, because he’s just that forgiving. Karkat waits for you to lay back down before pulling you close again. “Kankri thought it’d be a bad idea to move you while sleeping,” he mutters tiredly into your shoulder. “Said it would disorient you.”

“What time is it?”

“Late,” he says. You roll your eyes because, yeah, you managed to figure that much out on your own. “I didn’t get done until sometime after three. It was a little late to drive.”

“So it had nothing to do with what Kankri said.”

“Either way you would’ve ended up disoriented.” Well… you suppose that makes sense. If it was as late as he said, you don’t blame him for wanting to stay the night.

“Do-“

“I’m trying to sleep,” he mutters.

“But th-“

“Dave. Sleep.” You huff and settle against him, allowing your eyes to fall shut. Only it’s still too bright, and you can’t reach the light from this angle. You can’t turn it off anyway because it’ll be too dark and it’s still too, too quiet. You shift and take a few deep breaths to settle your racing heart. God, you hate sleeping in strange places.

“Karkat,” you whisper, fingers dancing over the arm draped across you. He hums and catches your hand in his. “It’s too quiet.” His eyes blink open and he lets go, rolling out of bed.

He stumbles over to his closet and rummages around for a bit before producing a small black box. You recognize it instantly as the sleep sound machine you used to listen to.

“Where do you wanna go tonight?” he asks, setting in on the nightstand.

“You decide.” He hits a few buttons and the room fills with the crackle of a campfire. Crickets chirp around the room, and if you listen real hard an owl hoots in the distance. Karkat’s disappears back into his closet. When he emerges you almost burst out laughing.

In one hand, he’s holding one of those fake campfires, complete with a fan to make the flames more realistic. For parents who can’t be bothered to really go camping. Karkat’s got a tent under his other arm.

That’s how, at four in the morning, you clear a space and put up a tent in Karkat’s room. He sets up the campfire and shuts off the light. The light from the fire is just bright enough to fall asleep to. While you pull the pillows and blankets off the bed, Karkat leaves the room. You busy yourself with recreating the blanket nest in the tent. Karkat returns just as your finishing with an unopened bag of marshmallows, a box of graham crackers, and a handful of chocolate bars.

“Wouldn’t be camping without s’mores,” he says, sitting next to you. He hands you the marshmallows and sets out on opening the crackers. You rip the bag open and stuff a handful of fluffy goodness into yous mouth. He takes one himself and sandwiches it between two crackers and a piece of chocolate. It the saddest, un-meltiest s’more you’ve ever seen.

“They’re better cooked, you know.” He mutters under his breath and takes a bit. The graham cracker crumbles into his lap. You laugh. He throws chocolate at you. You throw a marshmallow. Thus a food fight ensues.

Once the fight is over, you spend the rest of the night goofing off by the campfire. You compete over who can get the most marshmallows in their mouth at once. He wins. You build a pyramid out of (you win) and have a sword fight with graham crackers (it’s a tie). By the time the two of you climb into the tent and go back to sleep, the sun must be well risen. That’s what you assume at least. No way to really know without going upstairs. Maybe someday the you’ll watch the sunrise with Karkat. Today is not that day. Instead, you settle next to Karkat, wrapped safely in his arms, and drift off to sleep.

 

When you finally wake up for real, you’re a bit confused as to how you wound up in a tent. It all comes rushing back to in a matter of second though. You wiggle out of Karkat’s grasp and peek out of the tent. Cracker crumbs and chocolate bar wrappers litter the floor. The empty bag of marshmallows sits by the door like it’s waiting to be let out.

You crawl out of the tent, slap your shades on, and go upstairs. Karkat won’t be up for a while and it’s best to let him sleep. Especially after you kept him up all night. The house is oddly empty when you make it up stairs. A quick look at your phone confirms at least someone should be around. Maybe they were all up late so everyone’s sleeping in. Shrugging to yourself, you go into the kitchen and startled the half-naked man standing in the middle of the room.

“Jesus, Dave,” he laughs, leaning against the counter. “You startled me.”

“Cronus,” you mutter. “Always a pleasure.”

“Didn’t know you were here last night,” he says, opening a cabinet and getting a bowl out. “Want some?”  

“No, thanks…. I’ll wait for Karkat to wake up.” He shrugs and gets milk out. You watch, mildly horrified, as he pours milk into a bowl and then puts the cereal in. God. What the fuck kind of monster does that? How does Kankri put up with him? “He was called over to tend to family matters,” you tell him, derailing that train of thought. Cronus nods enthusiastically, shoveling a spoonful into his mouth. He’s only half listening.

“Congrats on the awards by the way,” he says around a mouthful of food. Gross. It’s spraying everywhere. You’d think a trust fund kid would have better manners.  

“Thanks.” You get up for something to drink, this time going with water. Apple juice may be great, but sometimes you need good old water.

“Think I could be in one of your movies?” You choke on your drink, struggling not to spit it out. He’s staring at you. He’s dead serious.

“Can you even act?” you ask, incredulous. He stands up, bowl in one hand and begins quoting fucking Hamlet. Could he get any more pretentious? Admittedly he does a bang up job. You’re impressed. “So you can quote Shakespeare. Anyone can do that.”

“But can they do it _well?_ ” he asks, taking a sip of the milk leftover in the bowl. You suck in a breath. God, you can’t stand him.

“You wanna convince me you can act?”

“Isn’t that what I’m already doing?” You wave him off, glancing around the kitchen. Yeah, he can definitely act. You’re not even sure what role you might put him in. He’d have to audition for sure. A thought occurs to you. You smirk and glance back to him. He takes another sip.

“If you wanna prove you’re so great, convince Karkat that you and Kankri are getting hitched.” Cronus actually does a spit take, spraying milk all over the counter. You struggle to hold back a snicker. He stares at you, slack jawed, for a long moment.

“Can Kankri be in on it?” he asks, regaining his composure.

“No.” He bits his lower lip, eyes casting about the room. Thinking it over. Your mind buzzes with the possible ways he’d go about doing it. The bigger question, though, is if he can actually convince Karkat. Can he convince anybody?

“How convinced does he have to be?”

“One hundred percent.”

“How long do I have?”

“All day.” Welp. If Karkat was planning on going home, he’s gonna have to wait now. Hopefully you can keep him here all day. He raises a brow at that and grins. You grin back.

“Well, Mr. Strider,” he says, smirk firmly planted on his face. “You got yourself a deal.”

 

“Dude, no, you went the wrong way. Back, back! Go back!” You shout at the screen. Cronus’ character gets shot in the head before he can duck for cover. He grumbles under his breath and dumps the controller on the table. “You suck at this game.”

Three hours later finds you and Cronus camping on the couch playing video games. Though it’s more like you’re playing and he’s just watching. You’d think he’d be great at games but apparently he sucks. Makes you wonder what he does in all that free time he has. Probably spends it banging Kankri or whatever it is they get up to behind closed doors.

“I’m just not good at the games you pick,” he says as the round ends. You set your controller in your lap and look at him. “Can’t we play something else?”

“Like?”

“Mario Kart?”

“You _trying_ to embarrass yourself, Ampora?”

“Afraid to lose, Strider?” he shoots back, shutting off the Playstation and starting up the Wii. You smirk, picking up the wiimote as Cronus returns to the couch.

Karkat finally emerges from the basement when you’re on your sixth round of Mario Kart. He shuffles into the room, hair a rumple mess, eyes half open. “Good morning, Kitkat,” you say, grinning up at him. He mutters something under his breath and shuffles out of the room. He returns just as you manage to lap Cronus with a mug of coffee and sits down between the two of you. You lean over and plant a quick kiss on his cheek.

A blue shell come flying up on you and you slam the breaks so hard that Cronus takes it the second he passes you. He unleashes a litany of curses, struggling in vain to keep going while the animation flings him in the air and crashes back to the course. By the time he crosses the finish line, he’s down to sixth place.

Cronus throws the controller down and sits back on the couch, frowning at the screen. “This game is rigged,” he declares.

“Maybe you just suck,” Karkat mutters, taking a sip of his drink. You snicker and start setting up the next race. Cronus is done for now, it seems, so you start a solo round. Karkat won’t be awake enough for games for a while. He sips his coffee, eyes not quite focusing on the TV. How much sleep did he actually get last night?

“So,” Cronus starts, placing an arm over the back of the couch. “I know this might seem awkward but… um… I thought you might be able to help.” Karkat blinks at him, eyes narrowing dangerously. Cronus licks his lips nervously, drawing his hands into his lap and fiddling with them. You do your best to focus on the game.

“What the fuck are you on about?”

“Well…” he says, taking a deep breath. Karkat brings his mug up, takes a drink. Cronus looks to you. You watch him out of the corner of your eye. “I need help picking out a ring. For Kankri.” Karkat splutters, sucking in a breath and choking on his drink. You pull the mug out of his hand before he can drop it as he practically hacks up a lung.

Cronus leans behind him and waggles his eyebrows at you. Frankly, your impressed by his timing, and on some level the delivery as well. Eventually, Karkat’s coughing fit ends. When it does, he levels a glare on Cronus.

“You’re not funny. That’s not funny. Why are you trying to ruin my morning?”

“Dude,” you mutter. “Morning ended like two hours ago.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry, it’s not funny,” Cronus says. Karkat eyes him as he pulls a box out of his pocket. “Would you mind checking it out though? I wanna make sure it’s Vantas approved.” Where the hell did that come from?! Karkat stares at it, glances up at Cronus and back down at the box. He takes the box and opens the lid.

An onyx ring shines back at you and Karkat. Two small gems rest in the center, one purple, the other red. You stare at it for a long moment before turning your attention to Cronus.

“You sly dog,” you say, grin spreading across your face. He smirks back at you. “How long have you been planning this?”

“I hope you were planning on getting our dad’s blessing first,” Karkat says, snapping the box shut. “No blessing. No wedding.” Welp. That’s about as much approval as Cronus is gonna get right now. Karkat hands the box back and takes his mug from you.

“Of course, of course,” Cronus says, waving him off. “I was going to wait, but since you were here…. Well, figured I’d get your opinion first.” What. The. Fuck. How long has he been planning this? Was he even going to tell you? God. Now you definitely have to let him in your movie. Does the deal even count if he was planning on it from the beginning? You feel swindled.

“Doesn’t matter if Dad says no,” Karkat mutters, gulping down his coffee.

“Well, I guess I’ll go talk to him then.” He gets up and walks out, winking at you as he goes. What a conniving dick. You finish playing your poor, forgotten round of Mario Kart. You were so far in last place the last race ended on you automatically. On solo mode. You didn’t even know that was possible.

“Can’t believe they’re getting married before us.” Okay…. Yeah, that hurts a little. It’s not that you haven’t thought about it but… some part of you just isn’t ready. Karkat’s such a romantic anyways, that you always wanted to make it special. It has to be just right because that’s what he deserves. To hear him sound so disappointed though… you’ve been together longer than… whatever Cronus and Kankri have been. A couple apparently. Then again, Karkat could always be the one to pop the question. Nobody ever said it had to be you.

You sigh and turn the game off. Not like you were getting anywhere with it anyways. Karkat’s frowning into his coffee when you look at him. Holy shit.

“Are you _pouting_?” you ask incredulous.

“No…” he grumbles, brows furrowing.

“You _are!_ ”

“Am not!”

“Holy shit,” you reply. “This has nothing to do with how long we’ve been together. You’re upset because they got to it first!” His whole face goes red and you can’t help but laugh. Here you were getting all upset thinking you let him down when really he’s getting competitive with his brother. Sibling rivalry at its finest, folks.

“Shut up!” he hisses, giving your shoulder a shove.

“ _You_ wanted to be first!” And now your cackling. It probably isn’t as funny as it seems but you can’t help it. Of course Karkat would be competing with Kankri over this. Of course he would get pissy about it. It’s a fucking race to the altar and Karkat just lost.

“Holy _fuck_. It’s too early for this,” Karkat snaps, getting off the couch. You watch him go, wiping tears off your cheeks. “Are you hungry?” he asks making his way toward the kitchen.

“Depends,” you say, getting your laughter under control. “What you makin’ me?” You get up and follow Karkat into the other room. He sets his mug down and wrenches open the fridge door.

“Jesus Christ,” he hisses. “Doesn’t anyone know how to keep food in the house?!” You refill his mug while he digs around in the fridge looking for something to eat. He grumbles to himself the whole time, eventually emerging with an armful of eggs, cheese and bacon. “Scrambled eggs or omelets?”

“I’m actually not that hungry,” you tell him, setting his drink down on the counter. He sets the ingredients down and stares at you. “Seriously.”

“When was the last time you ate?” he asks. You’re not sure what to tell him considering the last food you consumed was marshmallows and chocolate. It’s nearing dinner time at this point. At least he has the excuse of being asleep most of the day. “Dave.”

You shrug. “Not like I could have made my own stuff, you know,” you mutter. “Can’t cook, remember?”

“Do you want onions in your omelet?” he asks, getting a pan out. Welp. Guess you’re having eggs and bacon for dinner. Karkat grabs an onion and begins chopping it up. He’ll end up putting some in yours anyways. Karkat has a habit of making your eggs exactly how he makes his. Not that your complaining. His breakfasts are the best.

“Do you need help?” The glare he sends your way is enough to convince you to sit down. You pull your phone out and find several text messages as well as a few missed calls. God. Can’t people leave you be for a few hours? You briefly consider turning your phone off but end up on Facebook instead. That adventure lasts for all of about ten seconds. When did Facebook get so boring?

You end up playing Candy Crush until Karkat’s placing an omelet on the table. He sets a bottle of barbeque sauce next to the plate and sits down next to you. Sweet, sweet bbq! Karkat knows you so well. You slather the lovingly prepared eggs with the stuff and dig right in.

At some point Karkat’s dad makes his way into the room. You’re so wrapped up in eating that you don’t even notice him until he’s sitting next to you. He grumbles an apology when you jump. Karkat’s dad wasn’t someone you’d ever consider a father figure. Yet, over the years of being around the family, he’s become the dad you never had.

You’re somewhat grateful for that though all things considered. A scar runs across his left eye. It’s never been confirmed but you’re pretty sure he’s blind in that eye. He wears a near permanent scowl on his face that Karkat definitely picked up from him. His gruff exterior made you nervous at first but you’ve adjusted to it by now.

“What’s up, stabdad?” you ask, flashing him a grin. His frown gets impossibly deeper. He hates the nickname. It’s a lost cause. He’s never been able to stop you from using it. “Yeah,” you say, leaning back in your seat. “It is a little late for breakfast but Karkat just woke up so I guess it counts as still morning… on whatever planet he’s living on. Or we’re doing that ‘opposite day’ thing and having breakfast for dinner. But I didn’t have dinner for breakfast so I’m not sure how that’s supposed to work. Someone should make some rules for that.”

“Shut up, Dave.” You mimic zipping your mouth shut and throw away the key. Karkat’s dad’s always had that effect on you. For some reason his silence forces you to just keep talking. And talking. You’d feel bad if you weren’t known for being a chatterbox. His dad chuckles.

“Always nice to have you around,” he says, eyes crinkling with mirth. “You should visit more often.” You waggle your eyebrows at him and give him a thumbs up. Karkat’s looking thoroughly unamused.

“Why are you even in here?”

“Don’t talk to me like that, _boy_.” Karkat’s hand tightens around his fork. His dad sneers at him. “You should learn some respect from your boyfriend here.”

“Give me a reason to respect you and maybe I will.” Yikes. Quietly as you can, you grab your plate and rise from the table. The two are locked in a glaring contest as you take Karkat’s empty plate and put them both in the sink. You grab a leftover slice of bacon and slip out of the room. The second you’re out of there, the shouting starts.

There’s a couple standing in the foyer so you make your way over to them. The boy, bound to a wheelchair, peers around the girl at you and grins. The girl, long, thick black hair tied back in a ponytail, follows suit.

“Dave,” she says, turning to face you fully. “What a surprise seeing you here. Is Karkat around as well?” You gesture behind you to the shouting match that can be heard from the kitchen. She laughs. “Of course. How could I possibly miss that?”

“Nice to see you too, Aradia,” you reply. “Hey Tavros…. Whoa. What happened to your leg?” The boy’s face flushes, all the way up to his Mohawk.

“I uh… fell… down the stairs….” He mutters, frowning at his cast-bound leg.

“That sucks. What brings you guys here?” Tavros and Aradia exchange a look.

“We were asked to tend to family matters,” Tavros says.

“Right. Is Sollux here as well then?”

“Not this time.” Shame. You were totally down for a Smash Bros tournament. Oh well. Maybe next time. Or not. Karkat avoids this place like the plague for whatever reason. He secretly loves being here so it’s not even that. You’re convinced he cried for a week after you both moved out.

“His loss then,” you say, shrugging. “What have you guys been up to?”

“Same old, same old,” Aradia says. Tavros wheels past you both and heads towards the living room. You follow. “My friend down at the museum is going on a dig in a few weeks. You should come with us.”

“I’ll think about it.” Really it’ll depend on if you take on any new projects or not. This is usually your down time between movies but sometimes stuff just falls into your lap. Who knows what your schedule is going to look like a month from now.

Cronus and Kankri are making out on the couch when you enter the living room. Kankri’s hands are tangled in Cronus’ hair. Cronus has his hands up Kankri’s shirt. They have their tongues shoved down each other throats. Ew.

Kankri at least has the decency to stop when he notices your presence. He pulls away from Cronus, clearing his throat and smoothing down his shirt. The ring on his hand glints in the light.

“I suppose congratulations are in order,” you say. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little miffed. Cronus totally played you and now you’re honor bound to follow through. Tavros and Aradia both stare at the couple curiously. Kankri clears his throat, flashing you a disapproving look.

“I would appreciate it if you could wait for an _official_ announcement. As that is traditionally when others find out. It is quite rude to congratulate before then. I must insist that you hold your tongue, Dave.” You roll your eyes and drop into the chair next to the couch. Because there’s no way you’re sitting next to the face sucking duo. Aradia joins them on the couch instead. Tavros settles himself next to you and hands you a sharpie.

“Can I get your autograph?” he asks. You stare at the sharpie, look to his cast, and grin at him.

“Well shit, who am I to turn down a fan?” you say, taking the marker out of his hand. He laughs a little and repositions himself so his leg can comfortable rest in your lap. “You got more than the black one?” He pulls five more sharpies out of his pocket of varying colors. Bless this boy.

Aradia falls into idle chitchat with the wonder twins while you get started on Tavros’ leg A La Strider style. It’s mostly random swirls and doodles but he seems to be approving. At some point he grabs a sharpie himself and adds to the masterpiece. You fall into a game of Tic-Tac-Toe. He wins. You move onto Hangman. You win.

Tavros’ cast is completely covered by the time Karkat comes stomping into the room. The scowl on his face instantly softens when his eyes meet yours. You’re not quite sure how he’s so good at making eye contact through your shade, or if he’s even aware of when he does it, but he’s gotten really good at it over the years.

“You ready to go?” he asks. You give a short nod, quickly signing your name across the bottom of the cast. Tavros carefully slides his leg off your lap and you stand up.

“Tavros, Aradia, always a pleasure…” you say, stepping across the room. “And Kankri?” you continue, turning to face everyone. “Looking forward to the wedding. Congrats.” Kankri’s jaw drops, face getting redder by the second. Cronus sits beside him, grinning from ear to ear. Aradia and Tavros share equal looks of surprise.

“David Strider!” Kankri hisses, rising to his feet. “How _dare_ you?!”

“I’m offended that you still think that’s my name,” you reply, taking Karkat’s hand in your own. “And we gotta bounce. Bae needs his beauty sleep.” Karkat rolls his eyes, and waves goodbye as you lead him out of the house. Kankri’s shouting follows the both of you as the front door falls shut.

“Do you really have to rile him up like that?” Karkat grumbles as you climb into the car.

“Who knew Kankri could be so loud,” you say with a laugh, buckling your seatbelt. “Guess it really does run in the family.” He scoffs, starting the car up and driving off just as the front door swings open. You flip Kankri off as you drive past and can’t help but notice the number of cars parked around the house. Definitely way more than when you arrived. “Is something happening?”

“Business meetings,” he mutters.

“Shouldn’t you be staying for those?”

The song on the radio finishes and a new one starts. It’s not until that one ends that he replies. “No.” You let the conversation die because there’s nothing to say to that. Karkat’s been off and on about inheriting the family business for as long as you’ve known him. It’s been the source of many arguments in the Vantas household. Can’t exactly say you blame him though.

“How did Tavros _really_ break his leg?” you ask, leaning over and messing with the radio.

“Went to see someone about paying their debt, they pushed him off a balcony.”

“Holy shit,” you mutter, settling on a station and sitting back. It’s a miracle he even survived that… never mind walking away with just a broken leg. “Wait… why was Tavros doing that? Isn’t that someone else’s job?” Karkat shrugs, frown forming across his face.

“It had something to do with the dogs… I think. I wasn’t given a very clear run down of what happened.” You nod, fingers tapping along to the beat of the music. He glances at you and his frown fades, smile dancing across his face. You smile back and lean over planting a kiss on his cheek. His smile grows just the slight fraction wider as he takes your hand into his. The rest of the drive home is in a comfortable silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: Dave's weird eating habits are my actual eating habits, and if you've never tried bbq sauce and eggs, I encourage you to do so. It's great. I'm not much for omlets but I LOVE scrambled eggs. Ketchup is also an acceptable substitute for bbq. 
> 
> I will do my best to do each and every character justice, however, I tend to write out scenes and dialogue in a way that works best for the flow of the story but is also somewhat in-character. 
> 
> Next week is chapter 3 which I'm nowhere near close to finished. Hopefully, I will have it done by then... I may have been a bit ambitious giving myself a weekly deadline, but I will do my best to stick with it. 
> 
> Until next time!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp.... here I am with yet another chapter that I somehow managed to finish in time! It's unedited so... if there's any typos somewhere I apologize. This is one I've been looking forward to for awhile. The plot is finally thickening. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who's left kudos or comments on this story. I'm glad you're enjoying it as much as I am writing it!
> 
> Also, Thanksgiving is coming up. It's an American holiday where we stuff our face full of turkey, watch football, parades and dog shows and regret eating so much in the morning. I'm making pecan pie! As such, don't expect a chapter next week. I will be travelling and spending time with family. Chapter 4 will be posted the following Sunday. 
> 
> Enjoy this chapter!

You’re sitting at your desk, typing away like a maniac when your earbuds are ripped out. You jump and spin around, body only relaxing when you come face to face with Karkat.

“Dave,” he says, music blaring out of the earbud in his hand. “Come eat.”

“I’ll be out in a bit,” you reply, taking your earbuds back. “Almost done with this scene.” You turn back towards your laptop and look over what you’d just written, attempting to get back into the scene.

“You haven’t eaten since breakfast.” Karkat hates when you get like this, but when writing calls, you can’t just ignore it. Besides, this is going to be your best script yet. Karkat’s going to love it. He sighs. “Five minutes?”

“Five minutes,” you mutter absentmindedly. He’s going to hold you to it but will give you ten instead. Some sort of weird logic he’s got.... or he’s just being generous and giving you extra time to find a good stopping point. Either way, he leaves you to your work.

Five minutes later, your work is saved and you’re stepping out of your office for dinner. Karkat’s just setting whatever he’s made on the table. It’s a giant bowl of mashed potatoes, and right next to it is a bowl of corn. You can’t help the grin that spreads across your face as he then sets a plate of steak down. Holy shit. He made your favorite meal.

You wander into the kitchen and pour yourself a drink before joining him at the table. Karkat waits until your seated to help himself. He cuts a piece of steak in half, leaving the rest for you, and places it on his plate. It’s not until after he’s eating that you fill your own plate with food.

“How’s the script coming along?” he asks.

“Good,” you reply, scooping corn onto your potatoes and mixing them together. They just taste better that way. Karkat’s silent for a moment, watching you slice a piece off your steak. You brace for the next question.

“How much do you have left to write?”

“Almost halfway through,” you say, watching him closely. He wants to ask so badly. It’s been about two weeks since you started the new script. He still doesn’t know what it’s about. If you get your way he won’t find out until the premiere. It’s going to take a shit ton of strategic advertising and planning. Hell… if _The Blair Witch Project_ could pull it off, you’re confident you can too. Maybe you should hire that team. Miracle workers right there.

“Still won’t tell me, huh?”

“As mysterious as the location of Atlantis.” He scoffs and rolls his eyes. Karkat hates not knowing but it’ll be worth it for the big reveal. The ring’s been picked out. It’s sitting tight in John’s possession. Now you just have to finish the script and make the movie.

“Rose is concerned you’ll write yourself into a coma,” he says, stabbing at his steak. He’s sulking. What a baby.

“Please,” you scoff. “That only happened once and I’ve been extra careful since.”

“You mean _I’ve_ been extra vigilant.”

Okay so once, _once_ , you wrote for four days straight and woke up in the hospital. Doctors said it was a combination of not eating and lack of sleep that did you in. You spent like two days in the hospital banned form writing. It set you back a week. Karkat no longer allows you to create unrealistic deadlines.

“Details,” you mutter. “Who needs them?”

“You do,” he says. “Though given your most recent shit, I can see why you think you don’t need them.”

“Those movies are a cinematic masterpiece and you know it.”

“Do I get to read it when you’re done?”

“You can watch it when comes out.”

“You always let me read your scripts though!”

“Yeah well… not this time.”

“Daaaave,” he whines, giving you puppy-dog eyes. It’s an awful look on him. You aren’t even sure why he tries. It literally never works on you.

“You know that doesn’t work on me,” you say. He scowls. “You’re not reading it, Karkat.”

“Why not?” he snaps, glaring down at his food. Yeah…. He’s being a total child right now, though you guess you understand. There’s never been a single time you didn’t tell him about your movies, or scripts. It’s undoubtedly bugging the hell out of him right now.

“I want it to be a surprise.” The glare on his face softens, frown lessening just the slightest fraction. His gaze meets yours, eyes shining. “No more questions? I don’t want to ruin the surprise.” His mouth curves into a smile, eyes glinting like he knows what’s up. You hope he doesn’t. He probably does and will still be surprised.

“Okay,” he says, taking a bite of his steak. “No more questions.”

 

“Hey, Dave.”

“Sup?”

“Finished reading your script.”

“And?”

“It’s a bit over the top but…. I think he’ll like it. Are you sure this is how you want to do it?”

“Do I even need to answer that?”

“I suppose not.”

“When can we start casting?”

“Why don’t you come in tomorrow and we’ll talk more in detail?”

 

Karkat’s waiting for you as you step outside, sunglasses firmly planted on his face. He’s not much for eyewear but he’ll relent only on the days when it’s sunniest. You bought him a heart-shaped pair years ago. He complained about them for days but wears them nonetheless.

“Hey,” you say, digging into your pocket and pulling out an e-cig. He makes a face as you take the first breath and grabs your free hand in his. You begin walking towards the down town area.

“How’d it go?” he asks. You shrug, taking a drag.

“Casting starts next week,” you reply, blowing smoke out. It billows in the air, thankfully away from Karkat. He hates when you smoke. Hated when you smoked real cigarettes. E-cigs ended up being the compromise. Someday you’ll probably quit. Not any time soon though.

“Do I get to help with that?” You watch passing faces as you think over his question. It probably wouldn’t do any harm if he’s there. He could as least help organize those who’re auditioning. Karkat’s good at stuff like that. As long as the others involved in casting to let anything slip it shouldn’t be a problem really.

“Yeah, sure.” He smiles at that, squeezing your hand briefly. You squeeze back, giving him a quick smirk. “They know we’re coming?” you ask, putting your e-cig away.

“Yeah, I called ahead to let them know.”

“Great.”

******

Most days he stays inside. Remains within the confines of his shitty, rundown apartment. He usually only ventures out for food or to get more drugs; whichever runs out first. Today, however, is a special occasion. An acquaintance is in town and who is he to turn down human interaction? He hums to himself, gathering what he needs before leaving. The door clicks shut as he steps into the dimly lit hallway. Muffled screaming can he heard a few doors down. He walks the other way towards the elevators.

By the time the elevator creaks open the screaming has stopped. He steps inside. It groans under his weight despite being the only one inside. The elevator shutters to life and begins its slow descent to the lobby. The lobby is just as grungy and run down as the rest of the building; carpet littered with stains, and the wallpaper in various stages of peeling. The front door windows were busted out months ago. Now they stand, boarded up by cardboard.

He squints through the sunlight as he steps outside, the door groaning shut behind him. He meanders down the road, towards the tourist-y area of downtown. Crowds of people slowly form as he grows closer and closer to the meet-up spot. There’s a buzz among the crowds and as he gazes about, many faces are transfixed on their phones, tablets, computers, whatever they have that’s connected to the internet.

“Heeeeeeeey!” He pauses just as he’s getting his phone out and looks up. A girl stops before him, throwing her long, wavy, black hair over her shoulder. She gives him a smirk. “Long time no see.”

“I could say the same to you,” he says, giving her a lazy grin. “What brings you all the way out here anyways?” She just smirks wider and begins walking down the sidewalk. He follows after, opening the browser on his phone and checking current events.

It’s not something he does normally, but everyone around them have their eyes fixed on their phones.  Needless to say, his curiosity has been thoroughly piqued. The girl in front of him babbles on about something but he pays it no mind as he finds the article that has to have everyone buzzing. His attention’s so focused on his phone that he nearly walks into her.

“You weren’t even listening,” she accuses, crossing her arms.

“Sorry…” he mutters, holding his phone up to her. “Have you seen the news?” She takes a moment, eyes scanning the article before her.

“Yeah?” she says, frowning at him. “I saw it this morning. So what?”

“You should audition.” She laughs and continues walking.

“Dave Strider’s holding open auditions for his next shitty movie. I’ve got better things to do than acting in some movie,” she says. “Why don’t you audition?” He blinks, stopping to stare at her as she comes to a stop at a cross walk. Something clicks in his head. This could be his chance. The one he’s been looking for this whole time. Assuming he got a role, he’d have virtually free access to Dave whenever and wherever. The only problem would be that keeper of his.

“Yeah,” he mutters, coming to a stop next to her. “Maybe I will.”

******

Holding auditions is probably the one thing you dislike most about directing. Maybe other directors don’t go to auditions, but you prefer to be there. It’s much easier to see potential actors and who might or might not work with the vision you’ve created. You’re a very handson person. You had to rent out a convention center to do auditions, there was just that much attention. Some were probably one here to say they had a chance to meet you. Most are here to actually get a part regardless of who you are. You much prefer those people. They’re more motivated and dedicated to the film. Most who’re just looking for fame drop out once they realize how hard the hours are.

You sigh and stare out the window down at the crowd steadily growing larger. A sense of unease washes over you. So many people standing, waiting for their turn. How the hell are you going to hear so many auditions? What the hell were you thinking? Why didn’t anyone stop you?

“You know this was a colossally bad idea, right?”

“Gee thanks for the vote of confidence, dear,” you say turning to Karkat. He flashes you a wry smirk as he approaches and hands you a water bottle. “How are we supposed to get through so many people?”

“Well,” he says, standing next to you and gazing down at the crowd. “Unlike some impulsive people, _I_ actually came up with a plan.”

“Care to share?” you ask, opening the bottle and taking a sip.

“They actually have to sign up for one thing. Sign up ends at eight tonight, and we’ll stop letting people line up in about an hour. Hopefully, that will actually work out… we can’t exactly turn away people who are already in line so if they’re still around after eight, we’ll have to let them sign up still.”

“Makes sense.”

“No… what makes sense is only allowing the first hundred fucking people sign up a week before we held auditions, but who am I to tell you what to do?” Yeah…. Okay…. Could have planned this out way better than you did. It’s not your fault though. You just figured it’d be a way to find new talent and expand the pool past what Hollywood had to offer.

“Okay so… a few errors on my part,” you concede. “But, it’s all coming together. I take it you have more planned beyond that.” He shrugs, side eyeing you. “What?”

“Nothing…” he says, taking a deep breath. “The current plan is to create large groups of four and select about a hundred from each group. Those people will go on to the final selection where they’ll audition in front of you and whoever else you dragged into this catastrophe.”

“So how long should all of this take?”

“Well… with your non-plan it probably would have been about a week… this way it should only be a few days…. Hopefully.”

So you had a bad idea that Karkat’s managed to organize and make less chaotic. It’s what you keep him around for… well that and his cooking. You’d probably be dead if it wasn’t for him… In way more ways than _just_ starvation. You’re thankful for him being in your life.

“So…. Did I hear right that Cronus was auditioning?” You groan and run a hand through your hair. God. Cronus was ever persistent that he get a role, no questions asked…. It was only fair that he audition too though. Besides, the other had to see him too. You told him as much, more so that he’d leave you alone on not handing him a role and less about you wanting to make it hard on him… okay, so you wanted to make it hard on him. Dude totally played you. You’re not about to just let that go.

“Unfortunately,” you mutter. “Lost a bet and evaded fulfilling that bet by giving him some bullshit reason about auditioning and fairness and all that.”

“Really, Dave?”

“Yessss,” you hiss out. “He had to convince you that he was proposing to Kankri.”

“Does it count if he was actually planning on proposing?” You shrug, frustrated, because the fine print wasn’t laid out. Either way, he had to get past the first rounds and get a call back to have any shot at a part in your movie. “Wow, you completely played into that on,” Karkat says. You level a glare on him, knowing he knows you’re doing it regardless of your shades. “Don’t give me that look. You got yourself into this.”

“Yeah, I know,” you say, sighing. “Doesn’t mean I can’t make it easy on him.”

“Wouldn’t expect you too, now why don’t we head down to the registration area? They’re dying to see you.”

“Yeah, okay,” you mutter reluctantly. It’s not like people never see you. It’s just the whole…. Fawning over you that you’ve never gotten used to. Or maybe it’s that your dislike the attention. Either way, having so many eyes on you sets your nerves on end like nothing else. Karkat flashes you an encouraging smile and takes your hand in his, leading you down the hall.

 

There are…. _Way_ more people inside that you were expecting. How does Karkat plan to get through this many people so fast? You spot a few familiar faces from past projects and give them a small greeting. It isn’t long though before all eyes are on you in some way, shape, or form. You make your way down the line with Karkat, occasionally stopping to talk to fans or snap a selfie with them. Normally, you’d hate having your picture taken but it’s good PR and some of these people may be working on set with you. Indulging a few is something you can handle. Karkat at least seems to approve. He even allows you to drag him into a few selfies. You can’t wait to see what people are tweeting at the end of the day.

You’re pretty tired by the time you and Karkat finally reach the area where people are _actually_ signing up. There seems to be even more people here, if that’s possible. How did Karkat manage to organize all this in such a short amount of time? How did you fail to realize how big the turnout would actually be?

Karkat hands you a microphone. You stare at the thing in your hand, unsure of what to do with it. “Is it on?” you ask. He rolls his eyes, nodding and gesturing towards the crowd. You lift the mic up to your face. “Uh…. Hey…. Everyone….” You mutter into the thing. “Fuck there’s a lot of you here. I really should have thought this out better…. Haha, joke’s on Dave, his fans are way more dedicated than he is….” Okay…. Rambling in front of hundreds of people is probably a bad idea. You pause, taking a deep breath. “Yeah, so, thanks for coming out to this…. Clusterfuck, for lack of a better word. My speechwriter is on  vacation so…. You know, just adding my own notes here.” That gets a few laughs and an eye roll from Karkat. “Um, so… if it wasn’t for my lovely assistant here we’d probably being having… I don’t know act offs? Is that even a thing? Like a sing off but acting. Yeah, I like the sound of that, actually. Karkat, make note. Battle Royale, acting AU.”

“Oh my god, Dave. Stop embarrassing yourself.” That gets even more laughs. You have no doubt this small exchange is going to end up on Youtube. You flash a grin at Karkat. His face has gone completely red. He’s frowning at you behind the hand covering his face.

“Okay, okay, so, before princess over here gets his panties in a bunch,” you say to the enjoyment of the crowd and the disapproval of Karkat. “We actually have it all planned out, and sad to say, there will be no auditioning today. That’ll be tomorrow. Everyone will be split off into one of four groups and one hundred people from each group will get a callback. So…. However the hell many of you there are will be whittled down to like… four hundred and from there we’ll figure out who’s good enough to be in my next movie. So I wish you all the best of luck and welcome to Line Con!”

 

You sigh, flopping down onto the bed and grabbing the remote. The next few days will be spent living out of this hotel room. You’re not overly thrilled about it but it’s easier than commuting from home. This place isn’t exactly close to where you live. The room is more of a suite because only the best for you. There’s a kitchen area completely with a stove and washing machine for cooking instead of dining out. Karkat will probably make breakfast in the morning. The bathroom is decently sized. It at least has enough room for you and Karkat to move around each other without feeling claustrophobic. Plus, it has a Jacuzzi tub. One you will be taking advantage of tomorrow evening.

For now though, you turn on the TV and flip through channels until you find something worthwhile to watch. Karkat takes his and your toiletries into the bathroom. You watch him go and kick off your shoes, pulling yourself off the bed. It’s time to put your PJs on and get comfy. Tomorrow is going to be a long day. The clock is currently reading midnight.

Karkat comes back from the bathroom and lays down next to you. Water runs down his neck, dripping onto the bed. “You’re getting the bed wet,” you mutter, rolling to face him. He turns his head towards you, looking as tired as you feel.

“Just marking my spot,” he grumbles, bringing his hand up and carefully pulling your shades off. You blink, eyes squinting in the sudden brightness. He gives you a tired smile and sits up, shuffling back on the bed so his head is resting on the pillows. “You gonna shower?”

“In the morning,” you say and get off the bed. He grunts as you rip the covers off the bed and climb under them. Unlike _some_ people you like sleeping under blankets.

“So I’ll set the alarm for five then.” Cool. Like four hours of sleep. Not the worst you’ve ever done. That gives you about two hours to get ready.

“Sounds good to me,” you mutter, leaning over him to shut off the light. It’s not until you’re laying back down that he finally gets under the covers as well and pulls you close to him. The two of you are out like a light in a matter of minutes.

 

When you first started down this rollercoaster ride you weren’t quite sure what to expect. Thanks to Karkat, though, it seems to be coming together. Somehow, in the span of last night, your team managed to get everything sorted into four groups. It’s going to take the greater part of the day to get through everyone but you’ll manage. Wouldn’t be the first time you did something ridiculous like this. Won’t be the last either.

Karkat’s sitting next to you, flipping through a stack of papers on the table before him. You, Karkat and three other people sit at a long table, waiting for the first person to come. You feel like you’re the judges from American Idol, but with acting instead. In a way that’s exactly what’s happening right now. Somewhere in the building are three other groups doing the same thing. You wonder which group Cronus got shuffled into.

You unlock your phone and open Twitter, eager to see what people are tweeting about this. Unsurprisingly, it’s one of the many things trending right now. You grin, scrolling through the tag and manage to find a video of your speech from yesterday. It’s somewhat embarrassing, but you can’t be bothered to really care.

“Oh my god, shut that thing off,” Karkat hisses. He grabs your phone out of your hand and sets it on the table. “We don’t have time for this.” The door opens and in steps a group of three. At first you had been against group skits but Karkat insisted for the sake of making things go faster.

They stop in front of the table and introduce themselves. Karkat takes a moment to find their papers and hands them to you. You look them over. A pair of freshmen in college and a senior in high school. All have been involved in theatre for years. Seems like a hopeful trio. You run through the catalogue of roles available in your head, seeing if any of them might be suited for a particular part appearance-wise. It’s not a deal breaker if they aren’t and their acting holds more weight than anything, but you still like to get as close to what you imagined as possible.

The trio fidget nervously, looking between themselves. Karkat’s leaning over to the person next to him, mutter something about the application in his hand. It has nothing to do with the three before you so you ignore him and look up from the papers.

“Okay,” you say, gesturing to them. “Show us what you got.”

 

By the time lunch rolls around, you’re exhausted. Thankfully, many people decided to audition in groups so the lines are moving faster than expected. You’ve only handed out a handful of callbacks so far. Those have been awkward to say the least…. Especially with friends auditioning together when only one or two get a pass to the next round.

Karkat’s looking like he wants to strangle someone and you need a smoke break like nobody’s business. You don’t take it though but Karkat does step outside for a minute for a phone call. He’s either ordering lunch or it’s some family matter. Either way he comes back a few minutes later with pizza. The five of you take this time to go over various applicants and discuss their credentials. There’s quite a few that seem promising but anyone can put anything on a piece of paper. Their actual auditions will show what they can really do.

You and Karkat share a few slices of pizza, bickering occasionally over who gets the crust. The two of you end of eating a whole pizza. All too soon lunch ends though and it’s back to seeing terrible acting.

 

“I’m just saying I think we should give her a chance,” Karkat snaps.

“You’re talking about potentially casting a total unknown in a lead role.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” you point out. Karkat still doesn’t know the cast, and he still hasn’t seen the script, but damn if he can’t spot a lead actress from across the country. “Everyone has to get their start somewhere.”

“Yeah, in a _small_ role. Are you trying to make this movie a flop?” You roll your eyes and sit back in your seat.

“She’s standing right there, guys,” you say. They look to her, falling quiet. She’s rather small for the role you’re imagining for her right now, but perfect nonetheless. Acting could use a little work, but she clearly has an eye for it despite never having gone to school for it. Actually… considering the lack of training, she’s pretty damn good at it. “How badly do you want a role?” you ask her. She blinks her bright green eyes at you and gives a hesitant grin.

“Even if it’s a small role I’d be delighted to have a part,” she replies, voice tinged with the faintest British accent. She tucks a lock of white hair behind her ear and adjusts the hat on her head.  

“The hours can be pretty long and demanding,” you tell her. It’s best she knows what she could be getting into before she advances from here.

“Dave can be difficult to work with,” Karkat adds. So you’re a bit anal about each and every scene you film. There’s never been anything wrong with that. Your movies are considered classics for a reason.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I worked with someone difficult.” You grin, look to Karkat, and then at the others seated at the table. A collective sigh runs through them as the nod in unison, reluctantly conceding to this decision.

“Well,” you say, looking over her application once again. “Congrats, Callie. You got a call back.”

 

You get back to the hotel and pass out on the bed. Karkat has to remove your shoes for you. You’ll take advantage of that Jacuzzi tub tomorrow.

 

Karkat finds you smoking out on the balcony. He leans against you, struggling to keep his eyes open. “Come back to bed,” he mutters. “Tomorrow’s another long day.” You put an arm around his shoulder and blow out a breath of smoke.

“We got a lot of people to get through,” you say. He hums in affirmation, eyes completely shut. “How did we even manage to get done so fast today? I thought this was going to at least be two days.”

“That’s what happens when you allow groups,” he mumbles.

“Four hundred call backs.”

“And countless hours going over the final decision. It’s going to at least be a week before we have a finalize cast, assuming their schedules will work. Probably another month before filming starts.”

“Did Cronus make it through?”

“Yeah.” You can’t tell if that’s a good or bad thing, but at least he’s good at what he does. No need to really train him. If he dares to harass you though his ass is going to the curb. You finish smoking and lead Karkat back inside. He goes right back to bed and watches you sit at the desk. Papers lay scattered about it, the applications of everyone who made it through the first round sit in before you. Each has their own notes scrawled on them from the other groups that chose them. You make sure to have them memorized before going back to bed.

 

The next day has you feeling way more haggard than when this whole thing started. You’re beginning to regret ever doing this. Hindsight and all that. Karkat graciously stops at Starbuck and gets you both drinks full of enough caffeine to keep a full classroom of kindergarteners hyper for days. You chug the thing in minutes. Call backs are taking place at a smaller location. The convention center ended up being unneeded once you whittled the mass down to four hundred.

A crowd has formed by the time you arrive and you couldn’t feel more pleased. Thank god they have the dedication to show up before you do. Nothing is more irritating than when you show up late and your actors aren’t even on set yet. You sneak in through the back because you aren’t ready to see so many people in person so early in the morning.

Kanaya’s already seated at the table when you walk in. Normally, Kanaya isn’t someone you employ on the regular, but she’s practically family and hold a special interest in this particular movie. Also, she agreed to design all the clothes for it which she claims means she gets to help pick the cast. Your cousin, Rose, sits next to her, eyes scanning and flipping through the stack of papers in front of her. To her left is your producer and confidante in this whole production, Nepeta. She’s standing off to the side, messing with the camcorder to find the perfect angle for recording.

“Karkat,” Nepeta says, not even bothering to look away from the camera. “Can you go stand over there,” she says pointing in the general area of where people will be standing. He obediently listens, handing you his drink. She fiddles with it more before huffing and move the camera entirely. You take a seat next to Rose, watching the exchange.

“Good morning, Dave.”

“Morning, Rose.”

“Sleep well?”

“Does an hour count?” She opens her mouth to respond only to be cut off by Nepeta’s cry of delight. She finishes adjusting her camera and bounces back to the table. Karkat follows at a much slower pace. He drops into the seat next to you and takes a huge gulp of coffee before setting his head on the table.

“Are we ready?” Kanaya asks, eyes Karkat uncertainly.

“As ready as we’ll ever be,” Karkat grumbles. You sit back in your seat, getting comfortable. At least the chairs aren’t those god awful metallic folding chairs. You can’t imagine having to sit in one of those all day long.

“Kanaya? Care to let the first person in?”

 

Three hours into call backs and you want to scream. Half the people so far aren’t nearly as good auditioning solo as they were in groups. You glare at the notes before you, wondering how some of them even made it through to this round.

“Careful, Dave, or you’re going to burn a hole in the table,” Rose mutters. You definitely didn’t get enough sleep for this.

“That last audition wasn’t so bad,” Nepeta says, scribbling something down in her notepad. “He stuttered a bit but that was probably nerves.”

“I’m just not quite satisfied with anything I’ve seen so far,” you grumble.

“That’s because your standards are too high,” Karkat says, finally pulling his head off the table. Kanaya stands by the door, waiting to let the next one in. You wave to her to open the door.

You’re… not quite sure what to make of the man who steps into the room. Tall as hell is all that immediately comes to mind. He’s got a beanie on, hiding the mess of dark hair peeking out from under it. His dark eyes fall on you and he smiles.

Your heart stops, a feeling of unease washing over you. That’s not a normal smile. At least… it’s not the vibe you’re getting off this guy. It’s more of a ‘cat that ate the canary’ smile. He watches you watching him the whole time he walks across the room. You feel small. Smaller than you’ve felt in years. Your heart starts beating again, racing wildly as he comes to a stop in front of the table.

“Congrats on making is this far,” Nepeta chirps, shuffling around the papers on the table. At this point in time, everyone’s stacks have gotten mixed. “What is your name?” He finally takes his eyes off you, sliding them over to Nepeta as Kanaya makes her way over to everyone. She gives you a concerned look before taking her seat next to Rose. You’re not even sure what Rose is thinking right now. You’re too terrified to even look at her.

“Well thanks,” the man says, voice scratchy and rough. You wonder if it’s from smoking or something else entirely. “It’s a pleasure to be here today in front of all you fine people.” His eyes focus back on you. You take a deep breath, holding off on the rising panic. He flashes you a full-toothed grin. You’ve never felt more unnerved in your life. “Name’s Gamzee. Gamzee Makara.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh.
> 
> Okay, I'm off to play more Pokemon. See ya in 2 weeks!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look! Another chapter! Thanks again to everyone who's left kudos or comments. They give me life so keep them coming! 
> 
> Also... if anyone is interested you can find me on tumblr: http://yaoistmotherfuckerwhoeverlived.tumblr.com/ 
> 
> There's not much to it... and it's horribly unorganized but if you wanna follow and pester me about this story then hit me up! 
> 
> Today's chapter is brought to you by.... endless exhaustion.
> 
> Enjoy!

_Beware the stare of Mary Shaw…_

_She had no children only dolls._

_And if you see her in your dreams,_

_Be sure you never…. Ever, scream._

You gasp awake, ears ringing from a quickly fading scream. Your heart’s racing as you stare wide-eyed at the ceiling. Your whole body feels like it’s vibrating. God, you hate that movie. Taking a deep, steadying breath, you look to see if Karkat’s been awoken. He’s sleeping peacefully on his stomach, face turned towards you.

The dream plays over in your head; at least the parts you can remember do. Of all the things he had to audition with, it had to be that fucking movie. You should have stopped him. Sent him away. Made him do something else… but you didn’t, and you still aren’t sure why. Your wrists ache from the phantom sensation of cloth being tied around them. The feeling makes your stomach twist.

_Cal…_

You suck in a breath and sit up, carefully extracting yourself from bed, and head to your office. It’s not something you do often. Usually only when you’re having a moment, but you can’t get the nagging out of your head. Maybe this is another moment. Either way, the compulsion to check is undeniable. You have to see it. _Need_ to know. Need some sort of validation that it wasn’t all in your head… that it’s all behind you now.

You sit at your desk and open your laptop. It boots up pretty quickly and you open the browser, mouse hovering over the search bar. How simple it would be to look it up. The website’s burned into your mind. You could never forget it. Karkat’s sleeping…. He can’t stop you. Unless he wakes up before you can go through with it. You click the search bar and begin typing. It autofills in second. You hit enter.

_My perfect little puppet._

The laptop slams shut. You stare at your shaking hands, resting against the object, and stand up, walking out of the room. Tea seems like a good idea right about now. You go into the kitchen and set water on the stove to warm up. While the water is heating up you grab the file of applications off the coffee table and have a seat in the kitchen. The final decision was still in process but after nearly a week, you were pretty set on most of the roles. Rose and Karkat had decided to abstain from the final decision; Karkat because he couldn’t accurately judge the roles and Rose to prevent a tie.

There was only one candidate that you were on the fence about. You want him. He’s the perfect person for the role…. But Rose had adamantly argued against it. Karkat had agreed…. You were pretty much out voted by all of them. You were going to get what you want though, and despite feeling uneasy about him, he’s the best person for the job. No argument. No exception. You sigh and get up to check on the water. It’s boiling like nobody’s business. You go through the motions of placing the teabags a cup and pouring the water over it. While the tea sets, you grab the files off the table and enter the living room, placing them back on the coffee table and going back into the kitchen for your drink.

Iced tea is your usual preference, but tonight you’re going with hot. It’s more relaxing and you can take your time drinking it. You set it on the table and go over to the TV. The camcorder is sitting next to it, plugged in and ready to be watched. Now’s as good a time as any to go over the audition tapes since sleep is currently not an option. Again. You’ve probably watched them at least fifty times since auditions. The others have already voice their opinions on the final decision but only you can truly make it. It is your movie after all and you’ve never let anyone tell you who to cast. Suggestions are greatly appreciated though.

Next to the camcorder sits a pile of tapes. Each one is labeled with the name of the person auditioning and the role you have in mind for them. You dig around the pile until you find Cronus’ tape. He doesn’t have a part yet, and not from lack of trying but because you have two characters in mind that he’d fit perfectly. You find his tape and put it in the camera, hitting play and returning to your spot on the couch.

You watch the video for a few moments and pick up his application. The paper is loaded with your chicken scratch. Notes litter the margin and every possible inch of the thing and you still can’t decide on what role you want him to play. You pick up your pen and scribble a few more notes. By the time you’re done with this, Cronus’ application will be more your notes than his.

“Dave?” You jump and look up from the paper. Karkat’s watching you, eyes half open, frown marring his face. He’s squinting from the light of the TV. “What are you doing up?” he mutters.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you say. “Care to join me? There’s tea in the kitchen.” He mumbles some sort of reply and goes back down the hall, coming back moments later with a blanket. You watch as he sets the blanket on the couch and disappears into the kitchen, sleepily moving about the entire time. You turn your attention back to the tape and rewind a bit. Karkat shuffles back over to you a minute later with a mug of steaming, hot tea. He settles next to you and wraps the blanket around himself.

“Are you really up at two in the morning watching Cronus’ audition tape?”

“He’s the only one I can’t figure out…. And I need to get this done.”

“Dave,” he sighs, resting his head on your shoulder. “Just go to sleep already. It’s too soon for this obsessiveness.” He says as he sits next to you with a cup of tea. You laugh a little and scribble something down in your notes.

“Finish your drink and we’ll go back to bed,” you say. He falls silent, blowing gently on his drink while you watch the rest of the tape. You’ve pretty much gleaned all the information off of it as you could. There isn’t much left to it to take notes on. “I just have two parts in mind for him and I can’t decide which he’d be better for…. He’s the last one that I need to cast.”

“Are you really going to cast Gamzee?” The dream comes roaring back into your mind’s eye, screaming loud as ever in your ears. You stare at the pile of tapes… at Gamzee’s audition sitting off to the side after watching it so many times. Gamzee was… someone you weren’t quite sure what to think of. He gave off so many unwanted vibes but you could place your finger on why. Everyone else had evidently felt it too considering how against him they were. You weren’t about to let that keep you from casting him though. He was perfect for the role and you couldn’t let your own reservations hold you back. He probably wasn’t as bad as he seemed anyways.

“Yes,” you reply after a moment. Karkat goes tense beside you. “It’s like he was put on this planet for the sole purpose of being in this movie, Karkat.”

“Are you just going to ignore your intuition like that?” he mutters. “It’s there for a reason, you know.” You do, and it’s held you back all these years. You’re tired of letting it rule your life.

“Yeah… well… my intuition is a little skewed right now. It needs to recalibrate before I can trust it.”

“Dave…”

“Karkat.”

“Don’t do that,” he grumbles.

“Do what?”

“Stop being so obtuse you fuck.”

“Love you too.” He sits up and gives you a hard look, seriousness etched into every fiber of his being. You watch him out of the corner of your eye, preparing yourself for whatever’s coming next. Karkat rarely goes off on you. When you first met, all he ever did was bitch at you and whine about the things you did, but after so many years together, he’s completely calmed down. On some level, you’re grateful for it. You do miss it occasionally though, but right now he’s gearing up for some lecture. You can just feel it.

“Dave,” he says, and you look away from the TV. He holds your gaze. “Listen carefully, okay? If he so much as _looks_ at you in a funny way, I’m gouging out his fucking eyes. If he _dares_ to even lay a single finger on you, I’m cutting his fucking hands off and feeding them to the dogs. Do you understand?”

“Yes, but you’re overreacting,” you reply.

“I’m serious, Dave. Anything happens. _Anything._ And you tell me. Okay?” You take a shaky breath and break eye contact, eyes burning. So Karkat’s a little protective. It’s nothing new to you. He’s always been like that. Ever since you started living with him really. You can’t really fault him though, considering everything you’ve been through. Still… you hate when he gets like this.

“I can take care of myself, you know,” you mutter, keeping your gaze on your lap. “I don’t need you looking after me all the time. It’s annoying.” You regret the words the second you say them. He sucks in a breath. Your eyes slide shut as you prepare for whatever he’s going to say next. Your heart begins to race.

“Fuck, Dave….” He hisses out. “I’m not trying to baby you… you know that right?” You chance a glance at him and find him staring at the wall, worrying at his lip. He shifts, eyes sliding to down to the no empty cup of tea in his hand, and take a deep breath. “Damnit…. I…. Sorry…. I just…. I worry, you know?” He licks his bottom lip and finally meets your eyes. “I understand that you’re trying this whole ‘trusting people’ thing, but don’t push yourself too far outside your comfort zone. It’s okay to not be okay. Sometimes you need to take it slow.”   

You sigh and run a hand through your hair. God. What did you ever do to deserve someone like Karkat? He’s far too understanding. Too patient. Your eyes burn with unshed tears, but you’re unsure if they’re happy or sad. It’s possible they’re some weird combination due to stress and feeling overwhelmed.

“Just trust me on this. Please?”

“I don’t trust him,” he says and sighs. “I don’t trust him…. And I’m not going to sit here and lie to you. If you want to give it a try, then go ahead, I won’t stop you. Just please, promise me, that if anything happens you’ll tell me.”

There are many reasons you and Karkat have been together for so long. You can’t even begin to count the number of arguments that almost ended things. The late night yelling. Countless days of silence between the two of you. So much screaming and shouting. So many hot tears and misspoken words. Regret and bitterness flavored those memories. Yet in the end, you always came back. Maybe some would say it’s unhealthy, but your relationship with him has always been full of communication. You always made amends. Always came back together and worked through the problems. You won’t start resenting him for telling the truth.

“Okay,” you say. You might not have the perfect relationship. Nobody does. But you’re happy and loved. What more could you ask for? Relationships are all about compromise, and this is something you can compromise on. He may be overreacting, but he has good intentions. You can’t fault him for that.

“Thanks,” he mutters, giving you a small smile and settling back against the couch. You lean against him and rest your head on his shoulder. The TV screen has gone blue, Cronus’ tape ended a while back but went largely ignored. You have the thing memorized by now so it’s not even that important anymore.

“Why don’t you just ask Cronus which part he’d prefer to play?” Karkat asks, breaking the silence. You… hm. Yeah…. That thought hadn’t even occurred to you. It would be a simple solution to the current issue.

“That…. Actually isn’t a bad idea….”

“Do I ever have bad ideas?”

“Well there was that one time….” You reply, vaguely. He huffs and twists away from you, grabbing you by the shoulders and pulling you down onto the couch with him.

“Like you have room to talk,” he says as you settle on top of him. Karkat shifts enough to pull the blanket out from under him and places it over the both of you. He wraps his arms around you, one hand running up and down your back. It’s soothing, and you’re asleep in seconds.

 

When you wake up, you’re alone. The blanket hangs half off the couch and the TV has long since been turned off. You sit up, peering around the room through blurry eyes, and spy Karkat out on the balcony. He’s reclining back in one of the chairs out there, phone pressed to his ear. You watch his hand wave about as he speaks to whoever is on the phone. As you sit watching him, you become acutely aware of the dull ache in your head and the burning in your eyes.

“Shit,” you hiss, jumping off the couch and running into the bathroom. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, hair all mussed up from sleep and a big mark on you face. Lines run about the mark from where Karkat’s shirt left an imprint on you while sleeping. The most jarring thing though is your eyes. They stare back at you, completely dried out and bloodshot.

Frowning, you open the medicine cabinet and dig around for the eye drops. Your search turns up empty. “Fuck…..” you mutter, stepping back from the cabinet. “Karkat!” You step out of the bathroom and make your way down the hall. “Karkat.”

He’s still outside. You can’t say your surprised. That man can talk for hours. You step up to the glass door and knock on it. He startles and turns toward you.

“I gotta go,” he says, voice audible but muffled behind the glass. “We’ll talk later.”

“I need eye drops,” you say the second he steps through the door.

“I’ll say,” he mutters, taking you face in his hands to get a better look. “When did you change them last?” You shrug. It’s probably time for another pair but you can’t remember how long they’ve been in or if you even ordered more.

“This is my last pair,” you say, trying in vain to calculate when you last took them out. You definitely don’t have a new pair though. There weren’t any in the bathroom. That much you do know.

“Did you order more?”

“I’ve been a bit busy, in case you couldn’t tell,” you reply, pulling away from him. “Where are the eye drops?”

“By the bed probably,” he says, walking past you to the kitchen. “But you should throw those out and give your eyes a chance to breath for once.” You heave out an exaggerated groan and make your way to the bed room. “I’m serious,” he calls after you. “I get that they’re the kind you can leave in, but you need to give your eyes a break. You’ll get another eye infection.”

Sure enough, the eye drops are on the end table next to the bed. You grab them and your shades and go into the bathroom. Karkat’s right, as much as you hate to admit that. You can’t keep them in forever despite wishing otherwise. You gaze into the mirror and carefully bring a hand up to peel the contact off your eye. It stings to hell and back. It sticks to your eyeball and take two attempts to get it out. Your eye burns and waters as you throw the thing in the trash and move to take the second one out. It hurts just as much as the first one.

“Take some Advil too please!” You glare at your reflection, hating the eyes staring back at you. For as long as you could remember, you’ve hated your eyes. There was nothing wrong with them. In fact, they were perfectly fine and normal. Your eyesight was 20/20. Eye infections only happened because you left your contacts in far longer than they had any business being in. “Dave!”

“Yes, okay, god! I’m taking them!” you shout, shoving your shades on your face. Better not to have to look at them. You grab some Advil and go out into the kitchen with them. Karkat hands you a glass of water and watches you take them. He’s anal as shit about you taking meds when needed. Given your track record, you can’t exactly blame him.

“Cronus and Kankri will be here in about an hour,” he tells you as you set your drink on the table. Great. Just enough time for the meds to just barely start working. Maybe you should have taken more.

“What’s the occasion?”

“I thought Cronus could do one more audition,” he says, sitting down at the table. “See if it’ll help you figure out what role to cast him in.” How thoughtful of him. Always trying to help you out and having your best interest in mind. It’s almost like he didn’t just propose you work on a Saturday.

“Alright, well, let me know when they’re here. Gonna go lay down for a bit.” You lay down on the couch and pull the blanket up over your head. Only then do you take your shades back off to try and sleep a little longer.

 

Cronus and Kankri show up an hour later as expected. You somehow managed to fall back to sleep in that time and wake up feeling worse. This is the very reason you don’t make a habit out of napping. Cronus performs his latest and final audition for the three of you. You’re no closer to figuring out what role to put him in so the two of you head outside for a talk. You let him decide and ultimately realize it was the right choice. After your smoke break, the two of you head inside and somehow get talked into doing dinner together. It ends up being a nice way to spend the day, though you wish you had had the actual day off. As you go to bed that night, your mind is buzzing with everything you have to do in the morning.

 

“Karkat.”

“Yeah?”

“What’s my schedule lookin’ like for the next week?”

“You’ve got a few interviews and…. Don’t give me that look, you’re going to them.”

“Fiiiine. Anything else?”

“No.”

“Did you contact everyone about their offers?”

“They have until the end of the week to accept or reject them and send in their schedules.”

“Great…. Reschedule the interviews.”

“What? Why?”

“I got stuff to do before we start filming.”

“Fuck no, Dave. This is just some shitty way for you to get out of the interviews.”

“It’s not. Schedule them for the week after.”

“Like hell I’m gonna sit here and believe that.”

“Believe it or not, it’s true. Either you cancel them or I will.”

“Fuck you, Dave.”

“Come on, man. Don’t be like that. I’ll even let you schedule one on the Today show. I know they’ve been asking.”

“Fine, but you can’t back out of any of them for any reason.”

“Deal.”

 

Karkat is spending the day with his brother. They’re going over wedding stuff from what you can gather. It’s the perfect chance for you to get some work done. Humming to yourself, you grab your keys and head out the door. Your car sits in its spot in the parking garage, largely unused considering Karkat prefers to drive everywhere. The simple solution would be to have one car but that resulted in a week long argument so you settled on separate cars. It helps in cases like this where Karkat’s out and you need to go somewhere.

The drive to your studio is quiet save for the radio playing music. Nepeta is waiting for you outside when you arrive. She holds the door open for you as you step out and hand your keys to the valet.

“Hey,” you say to her.

“Good morning, Dave!” she says, skipping alongside you into the building. The receptionist greets you both as you walk past to the elevators. “Thanks fur meeting today. I know you’re a pretty busy purrson but we have just a few locations to go over.” You’re grateful for every moment you spend around Nepeta. She’s such a peppy and cheerful person. You’re not sure where you’d be right now if not for meeting her. Nepeta really has an eye for the production value of movies and always offers some insight on how scenes could be done better. Your movies wouldn’t be as good as they were without her on your team. Cat puns and all.

“Yeah,” you reply, stepping into the elevator. “We need to make this quick though, I’m on a tight schedule.”

“Of course! I just need you to verify a couple places I’ve picked out. We can discuss them more in detail later if you want.”

“Nah, it’s cool. I’m already here, might as well do it now. Besides, I trust your decision so it won’t be much to talk about.”

“Great” she beams, flashing you a big smile. “We also need to go over the schedule one more time. Some stuff needed to be moved around.” You lapse into quiet conversation, chatting about this and that until the elevator reaches your floor. Nepeta follows you down the hall to your office where you get down to the real discussion.

 

Two hours later finds you pulling up to the Vantas estates. Your heart races with nerves but it’s the last stop on your list of things to do today. It can’t be half as bad as you’re expecting it to be. For one, you’re practically family at this point. For another, Karkat’s dad loves you. The driveway seems oddly empty today, but that could just be the time of day.

You get out of your car and head inside. As you were expecting, it’s quiet inside. “Dave! What a surprise!” You find the head maid descending the stairs, giving you a small smile. “Shall I let Spades know you’re here?”

“If you don’t mind,” you say. She gives you a small bow and disappears back upstairs. Why she bothered coming down is beyond your understanding. You fiddle around on your phone for a few minutes before she finally returns with Karkat’s dad. He scowls at you as he comes down the stairs but gives you a hug nonetheless. “Hey, dad.”

“Dave. Always a pleasure.”

“Thanks for seeing me on such short notice,” you say, as he leads you into the kitchen. He side-eyes you as you sit at the table. You fidget in your seat, watching him get a glass of water for himself and a bottle of apple juice for you. “Thanks…” you mutter, taking the drink from him. “There’s some things I need to ask you…”

“Boy, if you’re about to ask to for permission to marry my son, don’t bother,” he grumbles, taking a sip of his drink. “It’s about damn time you officially joined the family.”  

“Okay, well… that does make me feel a bit better,” you mutter, unable to keep the smile off your face. Apparently years of being adopted into the family are finally paying off. It helps that Karkat’s dad likes your so much. You really couldn’t have asked for a better family. “Um…” you take a long drink of your AJ and gather your thoughts. “I uh…. Was also wondering…. Um…. We’re about to start filming a new movie…. I was hoping we could use the house as a location?” You try not to cringe from the look he’s giving you. It’s…. you’re not quite sure how to interpret that look.

“You know we do business out of this house,” he says, after a moment of tense silence.

“Yes… it would only be for a few days, and we only need the outside. Nobody would come in.” He stares at you for a long moment… and uncomfortably long moment, mulling over your offer. “It’s… uh… important that it’s this house.”

He lets out a long breath, dragging a hand down his face. “What’s this movie about?” Your face heats up, color rushing to it like there’s no tomorrow. It seems so ridiculous and over the top now that you have to say it out loud. Now that you have to tell Karkat’s dad. Karkat’s going to love it though.

“It’s for Karkat,” you tell him. “A proposal…” He just… kinda laughs incredulously. Yeah…. That’s about the response you were expecting.

“A whole movie,” he says. “Just to propose to my son?”

“Yeah….”

“What did my kid ever do to deserve you?” he grumbles as a small grin slowly appears on his face.

“Rescued me from literal hell.”

He actually laughs at that and stands up, clapping you on the back. “Alright, boy, you can have the house. Just send me the schedule whenever, but anyone so much as sets foot inside and it’s game over, yeah?”

“Yes, sir.”

 

It’s late when you finally walk through the door that night. You’re so busy flipping through the binder in your hands that you nearly walk right into Karkat as he’s coming out of the kitchen. He almost drops the plate of food he’s holding. You drop your binder instead to help steady the plate.

“Shit! Sorry!” you mutter, picking your stuff up once he’s all set.

“You’re home late,” he replies, resuming his trip to the couch.

“Yeah,” you say, joining him. “Things too a bit longer than expected today and I was called back to the studio to address some things.”

“Everything all set?”

“Just about… we have a few more things to schedule, and the pre-production party…. Filming should begin by the end of next week it’s looking like.”

“Don’t forget the interviews,” he says. “I’m sure they’re dying to hear about your new project.” You make a face at him. Interviews are something you’ve been avoiding as much as possible for years. Some have been unavoidable, but you find doing the bare minimum works just fine to appease the fans. Karkat rolls his eyes, and stands up, disappearing down the hall. He comes back a minute later and hands you a packet of paper. “The schedule for your interviews as well as the questions they’ll be asking. I made it clearly that certain topics are off the table and asking any of them is grounds for ending the interview.”

“Great… thanks….” You mutter, flipping through the packet. Most of these are questions you’ve been asked before. Your work… Karkat… ‘when’s the wedding?’…. blah, blah, blah. The newest question seems to be about your open casting calls and the mystery project. Somehow you’ll work through those without giving anything away. “Gonna be pretty busy for the next few months.”

“Yeah well, nothing you’ve never done before.” You place the papers on top of the binder and sit back, leaning against him. It’s going to be a stressful few months. It’ll be worth it though. That much you do know.

 

The night before the first interview, you get food poisoning. Karkat is less than happy about it but makes the call to cancel. He ends up going in instead to do an interview at the insistence of the TV station. The next one goes pretty well, though when you get home that night you take a two-hour bath. What can you say? It helps you unwind. The last one, being shot live, has your nerves way too frazzled. Despite everything, though, it goes pretty well. Karkat’s prepping really helped with that. By Friday, you’re not quite ready for the party, but you spend the day preparing the venue for it nonetheless. By the time it’s set to start you just want to sleep for five days.

“Dave,” Karkat grumbles, watching you pace back and forth. “Calm down. You haven’t even started filming and you’re already stressed out.”

“Is everyone here?”

“Just about. Breath, Dave.” You take a deep breath and let it out. It makes you feel somewhat better, but not completely.

“I need a smoke,” you mutter, patting your pockets for your e-cig. It enters your line of sight. You sheepishly take it from Karkat. “Be right back.”

“You got five minutes,” he calls after you as you slip out the back door. Thank god it’s not too cold out. You walk down the alley a bit and find Cronus parked against the wall, cigarette hanging from his mouth.

“Hey, Cronus.” He startles and looks at you, eyes wide. A lazy grin spreads across his face as he gives you a small wave. “What’s up?”

“Just gettin’ a last smoke in before the party starts,” he says. You hum thoughtfully, nodding you head and take a drag. “Thanks for doing this for me by the way.”

“Don’t mention it.” In all honesty, you would have turned him down if he wasn’t actually good at acting. You still feel cheated out of that bet, but there’s not much you can do about it now. The hair on the back of your neck stands up. Your shoulders tense. You turn around and find none other than Gamzee wandering towards to two of you. “Looks like we aren’t the only smoker…” you mutter, watching him closely as you inhale more smoke.

“Is that the creep Kankri was telling me about?” God damnit, Karkat. Is nothing sacred between the two of you? It figures he’d tell his brother though… who would, in turn, tell Cronus. This family is full of gossips. He probably did it so Cronus could watch out for him. Fucking figures.

“You’re going to be working with him so don’t be rude,” you snap, suddenly deciding your business is done out here. “Behave,” you hiss to him, turning back towards the door. “Gamzee,” you greet as you pass him, giving him a small nod. He smiles and nods back. You go back inside. Yeah…. It’s going to be a long few months.

 

You’re sitting outside, alone, when Gamzee happens to find you. He offers you a smoke, which you decline, and takes a seat next to you. Really, you came out here to take a break from everyone. Five days into filming and you already want to shoot yourself. There’s nobody to really blame, this project is just particularly stressful and it’s starting to show. Karkat won’t stop asking about the movie and how things are going, one of which you have to lie about. He knows something’s up which then leads him to grilling you about the very person currently keeping you company. Thankfully, Cronus is around to back up your stories.

“Must be tough being the big boss.” He’s watching you closely when you look at him. “I mean…. You own the production company, wrote the script… you were involved in cast and now directing the whole thing? That’s a lotta hats for one person to be wearing.”

“What can I say? I prefer to take a more hands-on approach.”

“Ever let anyone else take charge?” You stare at him, wait for him to elaborate. He finishes off his cig before finally saying anything. “I mean; you have to give up control to _someone_ right?” Your mind instantly flashes to Karkat, however, you’d hardly call that controlling. It’s more standing on equal ground than anything. “Let someone else take the lead for a change…” he says, watching you intently. “Sound kind of nice, yeah?”

You blink, suck in a breath and stand up. “I don’t know what you’re getting at, man.” Gamzee remains seated, eyes never leaving you. He sighs out a plume of smoke and sits back, placing an arm on the back of the bench.

“Dave Strider,” he mutters, finally looking away from you and up at the sky. “Born and raised in Houston, TX. At the age of eight, his parents died, leaving him in the care of his older brother.” Your heart begins to race, dread washing over you in waves. “Sometime towards the end of high school, he lost touch with his brother and moved in with his future lover, Karkat Vantas.”

“So you’ve read my wiki,” you say, trying to shake off your nerves. “Congrats, you own a computer.” He brings his cig up to his mouth, inhales deeply, and lets it out, gaze drifting back to yours. You can’t place the look he’s giving you, but you don’t like it.

“All these years later and he has his own production studio. He’s been nominated countless times for countless awards. It’s a real motherfucking, genuine rag-to-riches story if I do say so myself.”

“Yeah, well…. We can’t all be born into fame.” He laughs at that and you feel the tension ease off you just the slightest. You’re not sure how to feel about that. “What’s this about anyways?”

“I’m a huge fan, you know. Been following you since the beginning.” You stand there, watching him, unsure of what to do or say. Part of you wants to leave. It’s about time to get back to filming anyways, but you can’t help standing there, waiting for him to say more. “Whatever _did_ happen to your brother anyways?”

You suddenly find it hard to breath, heart racing. Your hands are shaking. “I don’t know…” you mutter, licking your lips nervously. “Like it says, we lost touch years ago.”

“Funny how it’s never come up though,” he replies, almost as an afterthought. “Someone as famous as you, I’m surprised nobody’s done any digging.” You’re frozen to your spot as he finally stands up and steps over to you. You’re painfully aware of just how private this area is. It’s the reason you like coming out here during breaks. Nobody usually comes to bother you. Except this guy apparently. “Of course, it’s not like you have anything to hide.” He doesn’t know. Can’t possibly know. How would he even know? Nobody other than Karkat knows. Your eyes burn with unshed tears. You can’t move. You should move. You’re willing yourself to move, but you’re frozen to the spot.

He brings a hand up and cups your cheek. “Don’t,” you hiss, flinching away from his touch. He shushes you and takes hold of your sunglasses, pulling them off your face. A grin spreads across his face as you unwillingly make eye contact.

“My… what a lovely shade of blue,” he mutters. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying in vain to hold back tears. He gently takes hold of your chin and tilts your head up. He kisses you and…. Yeah…. Yeah, you just go away for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ten buck to whoever can accurately guess what Dave does next. 
> 
> See ya'll next week!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK... so I totally didn't mean to skip last week. The chapter wasn't done, I was a bit distracted by playing Pokemon and I took the weekend to work on a new AMV for an upcoming contest. 
> 
> That being said, I've decided to take a small break from this fanfic so Paparazzi will be going on Hiatus through the holidays (and my b-day). I'm hoping to take this time to get a couple chapters ahead in writing so I'm not writing on a time crunch. I also need a bit of time to plan out certain scenes now that the plot is actually moving somewhere. 
> 
> Anyone interested can find me on tumblr: http://yaoistmotherfuckerwhoeverlived.tumblr.com/ 
> 
> Next chapter will be posted February 5th.

_“Dave.” You shift further under the bed, trying desperately in vain to remain hidden. Over the years, as you’ve grown, it’s gotten harder. You wish you didn’t have to hide. You move various objects around, hoping they’ll obscure his view of you. His footsteps echo down the hall, stopping in front of your bedroom door. “It’s time to eat, Dave.”_

_Light floods into your room as the door swings open. You hold your breath, staying as still as physically possible. He steps into the room, muttering to himself. Unshed tears burn your eyes. The closet door slides open and he rummages around searching for you. He’s going to look under the bed next. You should have slipped out the door when you had a chance._

_“Come on, Dave….” He mutters, sliding the door shut. “Aren’t you hungry? Growing boys need to eat, you know.” His voice grows closer as he comes to a stop at the bed. He’s wearing his shoes. Your stomach turns. You should have hidden behind the desk. You regret not making that decision as he crouches down and peers under the bed. It takes him a moment, but eventually his eyes lock with yours. He smiles._

You gasp, mind spinning as you return to the present. Taking a shaky breath, your eyes flit about trying to gather your bearings and find something to ground you. “Welcome back,” Gamzee murmur into your ear. He has you pressed up against the wall, hand up your shirt and roaming your torso, brushing against various scars. Your shades sit on top his head, tangling in his mess of hair. He stops at a particular patch of marks and traces them. “This one’s my favorite,” he says. “C,” he mutters, mouth pressed to your ear. You want to puke. “A.” Your eyes flutter shut, skin twitching at the sensation of his finger there. The ‘A’ was particularly painful. It was carved far deeper into your skin than intended. You’re surprised you didn’t need stitches on that one. He shifts, pulling away from your ear to meet your gaze. His eyes hold a familiar glint, one you wish you weren’t so familiar with, as a grin slides across his face. His hand traces the final letter. “L…”

You head-butt him. He reels back, clutching his nose as blood starts flowing immediately. Your shades clatter to the ground.

“Touch me again,” you hiss, picking your shades up. “And see what happens.” The only reason you don’t now is because you need him for the movie. You won’t be able to find anyone even remotely close to how perfect he is for the role.

“You gonna send your guard dog on me?” he asks, watching you closely. Your shades resume their rightful place on your face.

“Don’t worry about what’ll happen. Just don’t do it again.” You start to walk away, unsure of how long you’ve been gone, but knowing break time’s over.

“You won’t tell him,” he calls after you. You stop and turn back to him. As he stands there, blood still dripping from his nose, he grins. It’s somewhat menacing. You hate it.

“Clean yourself up, you look like shit,” you say. “You have five minutes.”

 

You aren’t quite sure what to say to Karkat when you get home that night. Thankfully, he’s asleep by the time you walk through the door. You find him passed out on the couch, book resting on his stomach. It brings a smile to your face. He snores softly, head cocked at an angle that _has_ to be uncomfortable. He’s going to have a kink in his neck in the morning. You carefully pick the book up, mark his place and put it on the table.

“Karkat,” you whisper, shaking him gently. “Hey, wake up. It’s time for bed.” He stirs, mumbling unintelligibly, as his eyes flutter open.

“Dave?” he mumbles, sleepily. He sits up, rubbing the sleep out of his eye in a vain attempt to me more awake. “You’re late. Is everything okay?”

“Shh, Karkat. Sleep now, we’ll talk in the morning.” He mumbles a response as you help him off the couch and lead him to the bedroom. He’s back to sleep within moments of his head hitting the pillow. You quietly tiptoe out of the room and go down the hall to the bathroom. There you really take a moment to look over your reflection for the first time in years. Just above your right hipbone stands the scar Gamzee fondled just a few hours earlier. It’s the only word he ever put on your body.

There are many things about your past… about your body that you hate. This mark though, is at the top of that list. Just above the word sits another scar. This one self-inflicted. In a fit of anger, you had attempt to cut the mark off your own body. If Karkat hadn’t been around, you’re not sure what would have happened. Or if you would’ve stopped there.

You meet your own gaze in the mirror and sigh. Karkat ordered more contacts for you, but they’re going to be at least a week or two. You hate your eye color almost as much as the scar. Heaving another sigh, you tear yourself away from the mirror and hop in the shower.

You decide not to tell Karkat. He doesn’t need to know and you can handle it yourself. It’ll only cause him unneeded stress. About half an hour later, you’re climbing into bed. It takes a while, but you eventually fall asleep.

 

Karkat forces you to sit down and eat an actual breakfast in the morning. You don’t even have the excuse of running late since he wakes you up early. It’s like he knows you’d just grab a cup of coffee and run out the door… almost like a weird habit or something.

“Everything go okay yesterday?” he asks, sitting across from you. “Didn’t say much last night.”

“That’s because you were dead asleep and it was two in the morning,” you grumble into your eggs. What did he want you to do? Wake him up and give him an hour long rundown of how things went on set? …. Probably. Most likely. Yeah, okay…. He definitely expected you to do that. Oh well. Sleep is more important.

“Why were you so late anyways? I thought you were supposed to be done by ten.”

“We were until someone realized they didn’t put film in one of the cameras and we had to redo a bunch of shit,” you say, angrily stabbing your waffles. Karkat makes the best waffles. He makes the best eggs too…. Karkat just makes great breakfast. You scowl. “You’d think someone would have the sense to check that _before_ filming, but apparently not.” People had already left for the day. They had to be called back to reshoot scenes. It set you back five hours. You wanted to strangle someone. Instead you took a long smoke break with Cronus because fuck being alone.

“How behind are you now?” You make a face at him. “That bad?”

“At least a day.”

“So a week then,” he mutters, taking a sip of his coffee. You scoff at him. He sticks his tongue out at you and smiles. “Don’t deny it.”

“What did you end up doing yesterday?” you say instead. Like hell you’ll admit to perfectionist tendencies. Everyone is aware of those at this point.

“Not much,” he replies, shrugging. “Did some shopping. Visited dad. Helped Kankri with wedding shit since you stole his fiancé.”

“In my defense, he brought this upon himself.” Your phone rings. It’s that shrill, awfully put together 8-bit version of the Ghostbusters song. Some days you regret giving it to John. Sighing, you get up and disappear down the hall towards the screeching of your phone.

“Hi, Dave!” he says as soon as you accept the call. “Are you busy?”

“I’m in the middle of breakfast, man,” you say, sitting on the bed.

“Oh well… are you still up for lunch today?”

“Did you seriously call me at…” you glance at the clock on the nightstand, giving the numbers a hard stare. “Six thirty? Shit…. Seriously?”

“I wanted to ask before you got busy,” he grumbles. “God, Dave, I’m flying across the country tomorrow. This is like, your last chance to see me for a while.”

“Whatever,” you mutter, running a hand over your face. It’s way too early to deal with this right now. You love John to death, but he can be a bit of an ass some times. “Yes. We can still do lunch today… whenever the fuck I’m available for that. Now let me get back to breakfast with my boyfriend, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll call you later or something I guess.” He hangs up. Without saying goodbye. You have no idea where his dad when wrong in raising him…. Considering how gentlemanly that man is. Probably coddled him one too many times. Damn suburban families.

 John sends you a text a moment later. It’s some shitty, month-old meme he just discovered. You get off the bed, phone in hand, and go back into the kitchen to finish breakfast with Karkat.

 

A cigarette hangs unlit from your mouth as you lean against the wall. Arms crossed you frown at the ground completely lost in thought. Cronus sits on a bench next to you, rambling on about some nonsense. In a vain attempt to actually quit smoking, you left your e-cig at home. It’s working about as well as you were expecting. Karkat would kill you if you lit the thing though. If he even found out… Cronus would probably rat you out.

“You gonna light that?” You glance at Cronus. He blows a puff of smoke at you. He offers you the lighter.

“You gonna tell Karkat?” you ask, taking the lighter from him.

“Nah, everyone gets a cheat day.” You sneer at him and light the cancer stick, inhaling deeply. Karkat’s going to kill you if he finds out. You can imagine how that argument’s going to go. “So what’s got you all twisted in a knot?”

“Lack of sleep,” you grumble, blowing out a lungful of smoke. “Get used to it though, the next few months are gonna be sleepless.” You give him his lighter back.

“Kankri was a week away from popping the question himself, you know,” he says, taking a drag of his own smoke. “What are you gonna do if Karkat asks?”

“He won’t,” you reply, dropping your cig on the ground and crushing it under your foot. “Told me years ago he wouldn’t. The ball is completely in my court.”

“And if he finds out?” You shrug.

“He most likely already knows,” you say. There’s no way he _doesn’t_ know at this point. Not that he’d want to ruin the surprise or the all the effort you’re putting into this. You only have one shot at this. Like hell you won’t go all out. Hell… You could propose with a Ring Pop and he’d still love it. It has to be memorable though… has to be special. For him. Nobody else would do.

“How are the wedding preparations going?” you ask as he puts out his cigarette. He heaves a great sigh and takes out another one, putting it in his mouth but not lighting it. Dude’s got an oral fixation as big as the ocean.

“Won’t stop fussing over every little detail,” he says. “He was up long after I got home and went to bed last night, trying to figure out invitations and ‘save the dates’. I think he’s upset that I wasn’t there to help yesterday.”

“Maybe next time don’t con me into casting you.” Cronus flashes you a smile, rolling the cig between his teeth. You’re not amused and still incredibly bitter about the situation.

“Guess I deserve that one, huh?”  You offer him a smirk and a pat on the shoulder before walking back to the set. The current plan is to film all the indoor scenes before moving onto everything else. Things are a bit behind schedule though but it’s nothing a little weekend work won’t fix.

You find Nepeta chatting with a few crew members, clipboard in hand. she scribbles away at is furiously as they each give her some sort of response. You stop next to her and she shoves the clipboard in your hands. It’s one of those fancy clipboard with a storage compartment attached to putting pens and papers. It’s nearly bursting with sheets.

“Everyone’s schedules for the next month,” she says as you flip through the files. “You’re going to have to put them all together and find a date that works for everyone.” Fucking figures all the people you need won’t be available for shooting this weekend. Looks like it’s going to be another all-nighter.

“Thanks,” you mutter, eyes glued to the files as you step over various cables back to your chair. “We ready to do the next scene?”

“Just waiting on Gamzee.” Motherfuck.

“He’s late,” you hiss, throwing the clipboard on the table next to your chair. “Where the fuck is he?” Nepeta shrugs helplessly. God damn it. Why can’t people do what they’re told? “Has anyone heard from him?” You’re met with silence as you gaze at the faces around you. “Did anybody _call_ him?” Again. Silence. Ten seconds away from a meltdown and he walks through the door. All eyes are on him as he meanders on over to you. “How kind of you to join us.”

“You’re late,” Nepeta says. He stops before you both and has the audacity to check the time on his phone.

“Looks like I’m right on time,” he says, putting his phone away.

“Listen up, chucklefuck,” you snap. “If you’re early, you’re on time. On time is late and if you’re late don’t bother coming. We can’t afford to be put further off schedule because you think you can come whenever you please. Next time you’re late, I’m calling up your replacement, got it?”

You’ve got the number on speed dial. Called him up last night to confirm his availability. Everything is all set up in the event Gamzee gets the boot. It’s still not something you want to have to do though. As long as he leaves you alone and doesn’t mess up your schedule there shouldn’t be a problem.

“Go get ready,” you mutter, waving him off. “You have ten minutes.”

 

You end up cancelling lunch with John. He’s less than pleased but you’re too tired to socialize. You skip lunch all together and spend your precious free time looking over schedules. Because who doesn’t love using their break from work to work?

 

You actually get home at a sane hour that night. John’s voice floats out of the kitchen as you’re setting your stuff down. He pokes his head out of the kitchen and gives you a wave. From your vantage point, you can just barely see Karkat pulling something out of the oven. Looks to be chicken.

“Hi, Dave!”

“Hey, John,” you mutter, walking into the kitchen. Sure enough, Karkat’s cutting pieces off a chicken. “Didn’t know we were having company for dinner.” John’s sitting on the counter (who even does that at this age?) plucking cucumbers and carrots off the salad Karkat made.

“Yeah well….” He says, shoving a carrot in his mouth. “You bailed on me for lunch so I figured dinner would be just as good.” Karkat flashes you a look and you frown, shooting a glare at John through your shades. Not that he can tell. He innocently shoves a cucumber in his mouth.

“Had some rescheduling to take care of.”

“Oh…. So you ate with the crew then?” Your jaw clenches as you press your lips into a flat line. He’s doing this on purpose. You’re sure of it. Karkat’s got his back to you, messing with pots on the stove, but you know he’s listening.

“Didn’t have time for lunch,” you grumble. Next thing you know plates are being shoved in your arms. You scramble to take them before they fall to the ground.

“Why don’t you set the table?” Karkat asks, setting utensils on top of the plates. He gives you another look and goes back to finish preparing the food. Yeah…. Okay, that’s not a look you particularly like to see. You may be sleeping on the couch tonight. You set the table like the good boyfriend you are and even go as far as asking John what he wants to drink.

“So,” John says once you’ve all sat down for dinner. “How’s the movie going?”

“About as well as you can imagine,” you mutter, stealing a piece of chicken off Karkat’s plate. You make a mountain of mashed potatoes on your own plate and load it up with sour cream and corn.

“Right, right. What’s it about again?” he asks, piling food onto his own plate. Mischief glints in his eyes as he attempts to smother a grin.

“Yeah, Dave,” Karkat says. “What _is_ it about?” You glance between John’s grin and Karkat’s smug look and it dawns on you.

“You planned this, didn’t you?” you say, incredulously. “What the hell, Karkat?” He shrugs, grin firmly in place as he takes a bite of food. “John?!” Jesus fuck. John is the only grown man you know who can actually giggle. You don’t even know how he does it, yet here he is, sitting in your apartment, giggling. “Dude…”

“I’m sorry, Dave!” he cries between laughter. “He asked me to tell him!”

“It’s a secret, man, come on.”

“Please, Dave,” Karkat growls, rolling his eyes. “Why is that the buck-toothed wonder gets to know and I don’t?”

“Yeah, Dave,” John says. “Just tell him already!” You actually level a glare at John over your shades. He knows perfectly well why! Dumb fuck is just egging Karkat on at this point. He’s really backing you into a corner here. Frustrated, you stab at your chicken.

“You know it’s a secret,” you mutter. “Now stop encouraging him.” You’re pretty sure you’ve been up for well over ten hours at this point and functioning on approximately three hours of sleep. John’s shenanigans are not something you’re in the mood for right now. John ‘zips’ his lips and gives you a thumbs-up. You can only hope that means he’ll stop annoying Karkat on the matter now.

Dinner ends up passing by in relative silence minus the small talk. John somehow convinces both of you to watch a movie with him, which ends up being more than one, much to your annoyance. It’s not until you’re lying in bed that night that Karkat even says anything to you.

“Why didn’t you eat lunch today?” he mutters into the darkness. You sigh.

“I wasn’t hungry,” you say. It’s best to just be as honest as possible. “And I really was busy.”

“You shouldn’t skip meals.” You roll onto your side and peer at him through the darkness. His dark eyes are trained on the ceiling. He reaches down, takes your hand in his, and places both on his chest, giving you hand a squeeze.

“It was just this once.”

“I don’t want you to relapse,” he mutters finally meeting your gaze. “Stress can do that, you know.”

“Yeah…” you mutter back. “I know, but the circumstances are different. I’ll be careful. Promise.” He gives you a small smile and rolls on his side to face you. You scoot over, into you open arms, and settle against him. Karkat takes hold of your hand again, and gives it a quick kiss. You fall sleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the holidays everyone!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! So we are finally back with this wonderful story! Good news, I have the ending plotted out... bad news, it will be ending soon. I'm aiming for 12-14 chapters. 
> 
> Even better news! I pretty much wrote the entire sequel during this small break so... yay sequels! Unrelated but I will be bumping the rating of this story up to Explicit form this point onward. 
> 
> Thanks for being patient and for all the comments/kudos I got during this break! It means a lot that so many people are enjoying it. ^.^ 
> 
> Onward to chapter.... whatever chapter we're on!

Gamzee’s waiting outside the studio when you arrive. You’re not sure what he’s doing here so early but you’re pretty sure it’s to fuck with you. He’s probably doing it because of your outburst yesterday. God you want to punch him. You could always argue it was self-defense. Does it count as self-defense if you throw the first punch?

“Mornin’” he says.

“You’re early,” you reply, stopping in front of him. “Not supposed to be here until noon.” He shrugs and follows you inside. It definitely doesn’t get your hackles raised.

“Well I figured I could be gettin’ my work on early to make up for yesterday.”

“Right…” you mutter, opening the door and stepping inside. A handful of people mill about by the food buffet. You make your way over and help yourself to some coffee. They look about as tired as you’d expect after so many hours of filming. You got a good crew though and they’re all very dedicated workers.

You sit in your chair and take a sip of your coffee. It tastes awful. Nothing like what Karkat makes. You glare at the cup and set it down, pulling out your phone. You tap on it a few times and put it up to your ear.

“I’m trying to sleep.”

“Hello to you too, lovebug,” you say as a cast member walks by. They flash you a strange look but you wave them off. On the other end of the call, Karkat sighs loudly. You can hear the faint sound of him rolling over in bed.

“What did you forget this time?” he asks.

“Can you bring me some coffee?” He hangs up on you. You call him back. The call goes to voicemail a few times before he bothers answering again.

“Dave,” he says when he finally answers the call. “I’m not dragging my butt out of bed, making you coffee and driving all the way to the studio just so you don’t have to drink the crap they make there.”

“Please?”

“Go to Starbucks if you’re that desperate.”

“The baristas won’t serve me,” you whine. You’re pretty sure it has something to do with your orders being too complicated. Or your indecision. It’s most likely your compulsive need to watch every move they make and every ingredient they put into your drink. It has to be made just right…. Among other things. Okay… so you spent an hour in Starbucks once ordering your drink. It was one time and your server was being incompetent. It’s no surprise that Dave Strider is picky as fuck. Every restaurant in the state of California knows that.

“Then send someone in your place,” he growls.

“You _know_ I can’t do that.” Just the thought of it makes you panicky. You take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Please, Karkat? You can spend the day on set with me.” It’s a tempting offer and one you only make because none of what you’re shooting today will give away the surprise. Karkat seems to take the bait though.

“Okay, fine. I’ll be there in ten.”  

 

Karkat walks through the door an hour later as you’re in the middle of shooting a scene. He makes sure to be as loud as possible too. Nepeta kindly cuts the scene as you turn around and level a frown at him. He gives you a smug look and hand you your drink.

“I’m not sorry,” he says.

“We almost got through that in one take, you know,” you mutter, taking a sip of the coffee. You turn to the crew. “Take ten guys. It’s time for a damn break anyways…. That was the longest ten minutes of my life.” 

“I assure you it’s well worth the wait.” Well…. You can’t fault him there. Karkat makes the best coffee. Nobody can argue this. You will fight them on it. After all these years, he just knows how you like it. Sometimes, though, you suspect he just makes it like usual and you grew used to it over the years. What even _was_ coffee before Karkat came into your life?

“Why is he staring at me?” You drag yourself back to reality and find Karkat staring over at the food table. You follow his line of sight and sure enough Gamzee’s staring intently at him.

“Just ignore him,” you mutter, taking another sip of coffee.

“Is he leaving you alone?” he mutters back, frowning. Gamzee gives the two of you a small smile and wave. Karkat flips him off.

“Yeah,” you lie. It makes your stomach twist a little, but you don’t think Karkat really needs to know the truth. He’ll just flip his shit and nobody wants that. You can handle this on your own. “Just does his thing and goes home.” He gives you an uncertain look and you shrug.

“I don’t trust him, Dave.”

“We’re not doing this here.”

“I don’t like the way he looks at you… like…. Li-”

“Karkat,” you snap, making sure to keep your voice low. “We aren’t talking about this here.” There’s a time and place for things and here is not one of them. You aren’t even sure why he’s bringing this up again.  “Besides, I’m capable of taking care of myself.”

The words are said before you can even think them through. Karkat’s far more perceptive, far more observant, than people give him credit for. It’s moments like these when you wish he wasn’t. He definitely picks up on something though given the way he stiffens next to you. You focus on drinking your coffee.

“I swear to God, Dave,” he starts.

“Where do you want to go for lunch?” He pauses and stares at you. A whole host of looks fly across his face before he settles on a scowl.

“Don’t change the subject.”

“Who’s changing the subject?” you ask, mock innocently. “Certainly not me! I’m just trying to make plans. We could go to that place you like.”

“They _hate_ serving you,” he grumbles. “You take too long to order.”

“At least I tip well for all the trouble I put them through.”

“They explicitly told me not to bring you back last time we were there. You made our waiter cry.”

“We’ll get takeout then. Bring it back here and eat.”

“They don’t deliver, Dave,” he points out, exasperated. You stare at him over your shades and sip at your drink. He groans. “Okay, fine. We can go, but I’m calling ahead and if they say no we’re going somewhere else.” You grin to yourself as he steps outside to make the call.

You turn around and discover Nepeta bouncing her way over to you. “I thought Karkat wasn’t allowed on set,” she says coming to a stop in front of you.

“I needed coffee,” you reply. “Besides, nothing we’re filming today will be too revealing.” It was going to be impossible to keep Karkat away for too long anyways. You’re positive he only agreed to come in some attempt to figure out what’s going on with this movie.

“Aren’t you taking a purr-ty big risk by having him here?” she asks. You shrug and drink the last of your coffee. Oh what a shame…. Good things weren’t meant to last though. Still… feels like you drank that really fast.

“He probably knows and just isn’t saying anything for the sake of the surprise,” you mutter, absentmindedly peering at your cup. You should have savored it more. Made it last longer. #Regrets.

“I think what you’re doing is very thoughtful,” she says. You tilt your head towards her to let her know you’re listening. “Some people might think it’s over the top, but I think Karkat will love it. It has just the right flare of romance to it.”

“Thanks, Nep. I couldn’t do all this without you though so it means a lot to me.” And it does. She’s been your partner since your second movie premiered. It got so bad at one point that the grapevine was loaded with rumors of an affair. You’re happily with Karkat though and she’s…. doing whatever she’s been up to. Hm. What _does_ she do in her free time? It’s just occurring to you that after all these years you know so little about Nepeta. “Hey so… you wanna get lunch with us?”

A huge smile splits across her face. “Oh, I would love that!”

 

Karkat ends up going home after lunch which the three of you miraculously made it to. You’re not quite sure how that worked out but it did… somehow. Nepeta probably pulled some strings to make it happen. She has a way of motivating people in _just_ the right way to get things done. Your way of motivating tends to involve a whole lot of yell and threatening to fire people.

When the two of you get back, Nepeta leaves you outside for a quick smoke. You watch the door swing shut behind her as she goes in to wrangle the group back together. It’s something else she’s also good at. You can only hope everyone is back from lunch otherwise you’re going to be behind again. All you want is to get home on time and spend the night, alone, with Karkat.

“You didn’t tell him.” You jump, nearly dropping your e-cig. Gamzee stands next to you, watching you closely, as he takes a drag form his own smoke.

“Go inside, Gamzee.”

“Can’t smoke inside,” he mutters, smoke billowing out of his mouth. “Besides, you were lookin’ all lonely out here by yourself. Figured you could use some company.”

“If I wanted company, I would have asked Cronus.”

“Cronus ain’t here.” You scowl and take a long drag. Well… he’s got you there, but the point still stands. You’re out here for some alone time. Otherwise you would have asked Nepeta to stay. She’s pretty good company when needed. At the very least she has fun stories to tell. “You didn’t tell him,” he says again.

You let out your breath, watching wisps of smoke drift into the sky. “Of course I did,” you reply.

“Wasn’t the face of someone who knew.” Either Gamzee’s more observant than you think or he’s just bluffing. You huff out a breath and check your phone, hoping it’ll be enough to drop the conversation. There’s a few text from John and a couple from Karkat. Both are from this morning, one complaining about finding shit for the coffee and the other telling you he’s on his way. You can’t help but smile at them.

“Almost ten years together and you still can’t trust him,” he comments, and it floors you. Your cig rests between your fingers, inches from your mouth as you slowly turn to stare at him. What the actual hell is he on about? He watches you back, smile curving across his face. Something glints in his eyes. You vaguely recognize it as the look of someone who got the reaction they were looking for. “Does that say more about you or him?” he asks.

“You don’t know _anything_ ,” you hiss.

“I know plenty,” Gamzee mutters, taking another drag. “He coddles you.” He doesn’t. “Shelters you.” No… “Protects you from things you don’t want to acknowledge.” You… he’s not… that’s isn’t…. Fuck… you _hate_ how right he is. Hearing it from a stranger hurts. Karkat has good intentions though. He’s just looking out for you… letting you do things at your own pace.

“You’re full of shit,” you growl and inhale some more smoke. You’re not really in the mood for a smoke break anymore but it gives you a moment to gather yourself. Gamzee’s either a damn good bluff or he’s been watching you for a _very_ long time. Neither option is very appealing right now. One is certainly better than the other… you guess. It’s suddenly occurring to you that you might be in over your head.

He laughs and drops his cigarette on the ground, crushing it under his foot. “How long are you gonna to keep lying to yourself, Dave?” he asks, stepping past you. He pulls the door open and pauses, glancing over at you. “Can’t hide from your past forever.”

The door clicks shut behind him. You think you’re going to puke.

 

Karkat picks up on the fourth ring, just as you’re about to hang up. It probably would have been easier to just text him but you’re in the habit of calling.

“You on your way home?” Is the first thing out of his mouth. You laugh a little. Karkat’s never been big on ‘hellos’.

“No,” you say. “I was actually calling to say I won’t be home tonight. Got some stuff to take care of and by the time I get home, I’ll have to turn around and come back. Makes more sense to just crash here.”

“Did you have dinner?”

“Nepeta dragged me out,” you mutter. Of course he’d ask. You’re not even sure why you thought he might not. He’s so anal about your eating habits.

“Do you want me to bring you breakfast in the morning?”  

“And a change of clothes too?” you ask.

“Yeah, I can do that.”

“Great. Thanks.” There’s a moment, a pause. You hesitate. Want to tell him. It’s been on your mind all afternoon. You can’t get Gamzee’s words out of your head. Your eyes sting. “Karkat.... I…” You don’t even know what you want to say.

“Is everything okay?” No. Nothing is okay. You want to tell him, but you hesitate. Telling him would only make him worry. Karkat doesn’t need to worry. Not about anything but especially not about you. He does that too much. You can take care of yourself. You…. can’t tell him.

“Yeah,” you mutter. “Just been a long day.” Something settles in the pit of your stomach. It hurts. You wish you could take it back as soon as the words are out of your mouth.

“Alright…” He doesn’t sound convinced. Fuck. You fucked up. You fucked up and you can’t take it back. He’d lose his shit if he knew you just lied to him. You sit down, suddenly feeling dizzy. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes. You can’t breathe. “Well… get some rest, yeah? I’ll see you in the morning.”

The call ends and you sit there, on the floor, stare at your phone, hands shaking. A million thoughts race around your head. Does he know? Why didn’t he say anything? Maybe he thinks it’s just stress and exhaustion. He usually says something though. Why didn’t he? Why didn’t he ask? You stifle a sob, resting your forehead on your knees. Try as you might, you can’t stop the tears though.

_Almost ten years together and you still can’t trust him._

It hits you like a freight train. The dawning realization that Gamzee was right. You can’t trust Karkat. It hurts. Aches. You feel like you’ve let him down. Betrayed him. You’re not okay. You’re not okay and you lied to Karkat about it. Why didn’t you tell him?

You scramble to your feet and race to the nearest trash can, heaving violently into it. Why didn’t Karkat ask? Doesn’t he know you’re not okay? Why didn’t you tell him? You drop to the floor next to the trash and shove your shades on the top of your head, rubbing viciously at the tears on your face. For once, you’re grateful that everyone left early. The only people left are the security guard and Nepeta who scurried off to get a room ready for her sleepover tonight as well.

Nepeta… the thought of her lurking about… Taking care of last minute things…. It grounds you in the weirdest way. You wipe your face and take a deep breath, steadying yourself. You push Karkat out of your mind, opting to shut off your phone. It’ll only distract you right now. Everything hurts and you don’t feel any better, but the panic has subsided.

You climb to your feet and head to the security room. It’s…. mildly surprising to find Nepeta there…. Braiding the security guard’s hair.

“Seems I’m missing the party,” you say.

“Wanna help braid Equius’ hair?” Nepeta asks, finishing up her current braid and moving onto another strand. Equius gives you a pleading look and you snicker.

“Nah, I’m good,” you reply, taking a seat in the empty chair next to him. It’s clearly meant for Nepeta but she’s seems content to sit on the table. “So how did this lil arrangement happen?”

“Oh, we’ve been friends for _years_ ,” Nepeta says, smiling cheerily. Well… it seems today is ‘learn everything about Nepeta’ day. “It was me who helped Equius get this job.” Oh. You probably should have known that.

“Yes, I am eternally grateful that she gave me a chance at such an opportunity,” Equius chimes in. His eyes remain focused on the security camera feed, diligently watching everything he possibly can. He’s really good at this job. You’re glad Nepeta helped him out.

“Oh yeah, before I forget,” you say, suddenly remembering why you came here. “You probably know, but I’ll be staying the night.”

“In your usual room?” Equius asks.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be sure to cut the feed,” he responds and even as he says it, he’s leaning over the controls and shutting off one of the cameras. It’s probably safer to leave it on but… yeah…. You’re five kinds of not okay with that.

“Thanks.” You hang out with the two for a little while longer before making your way to your room for the night. It’s more of a lounge/resting area for the cast and crew but there’s a couch that converts into a bed. Also the door locks. You’re sure to lock it before taking your shoes off and laying down to sleep for a few hours. You surprisingly fall asleep within minutes.

 

_He fusses over your hair, determined to get it just right, before placing a baseball cap on your head. He turns it around so it’s backwards. You ball your hands up in your shirt while he paints your face. The brush strokes tickle your cheeks but you do your best to stay still._

_“There’s my Cal,” he mutters once he’s done, stepping back to admire his work._

_Your brows furrow as you frown at him. “That’s not my name…” you mumble._

_“It is for the movie, remember?”_

_“Yes…” You don’t like the name though. It’s not fitting and you aren’t sure why you even need it. “My legs are cold…”_

_“You can have your pants back **after** the movie,” he replies. “Now, on the bed.” _

_You huff, but climb onto the bed and sit there, watching him move about the room. He grabs two strands of silky fabric and turns towards you. The fabric is thin but long and certainly strong enough to hold no matter how much pressure is put on them. Metal rings attached to one end cling together as he makes his way over to you. You’re surprised the stitching has never popped from all the pulling you’ve done. Part of you suspects he fixes them after each session. The other end is tied into a loop, a slipknot allowing for adjustments to be made. He always makes them tight though._

_You hold your hand out obediently as he loops the fabric around your thin wrist and pulls it tight. He does the same with the other one. You avert your gaze as he steps onto the bed and clips the metal rings to the hooks hand from the ceiling. When he’s done your arms hand above you, resting limply against their restraints. It makes your shirt ride up, exposing more of your bare thighs. You meet his amber eyed gaze._

_He smiles at you and slides his shirt off, exposing tanned skin and hard muscles. It’s a stark contrast to your own pale body. You rest your head against your arm. His smile grows wider._

_“Good boy,” he says, stepping over to his camera. He mounts it on the tripod and fiddles around with the settings. When he’s done he looks to you. He moves back over to you. “Just one more adjustment…” He hikes your shirt up more. Reveals more skin. Shows just enough underneath without revealing too much._

_He steps back over to the camera, presses a button and quickly returns to your side. He places a knee on the bed and leans towards you. One hand is placed on your inner thigh, brushing the hem of your shirt. His other hand cups your chin and turns your face towards his. He rests his forehead on yours._

_“My perfect little puppet,” he mutters. The camera’s flash goes off._

You wake with a start, sucking in a breath. It’s dark, just barely bright enough to make out shapes in the room. You shift, attempt to roll over, and your wrist catches on something. Frowning, you move to sit up and find your other wrist is also caught on something. You feel around your wrists and find…. Some type of foreign material. It’s too dark to really see what’s happening but you yank and meet resistance. It hits you like a bat out of hell. You’re tied to the bed and someone’s in the room with you.  

The lights flick on. Gamzee grins down at you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See everyone next week!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Early chapter update! It's currently snowing out (we're supposed to get about 18 inches, I'm excited!) and I'm working from home today. 
> 
> In other news, this chapter is coming early for the simple reason that my laptop is struggling to charge so the charge port needs to be fixed. I'm currently waiting on the part to arrive so I can drop my child off for surgery. Basically this means I might not have my laptop over the weekend so I'm updating now. So yay for you guys! 
> 
> BTW, if anyone wants to chat I can be found over on tumblr at: http://yaoistmotherfuckerwhoeverlived.tumblr.com/   
> I don't talk about my writing much but feel free to message me! I'd love to hear from you all!
> 
> Either way enjoy today's early update!

“What the  _ ff-uck _ ?!” you hiss, angrily yanking on your restraints. Gamzee laughs and sits next to you on the bed. The idiot didn’t tie your feet down though so you do your best to knee him in the side. He grunts and catches your leg, holding it tight to his side. “Untie me!” 

“Don’t motherfucking think so,” he mutters, leaning over you. He lets go and pins your leg to the bed, just above the knee. The pressure makes your knee hurt. “For the next eight hours,” he mutters leaning close to your face, being sure to remain just out of reach. “You’re all mine.” 

His lips press against yours. You recoil, head pressing into the bed to get away as best as possible. It’s largely ineffective given the situation, but you try nonetheless. Something wet brushes against your lip and, with a start, you realize it’s Gamzee’s tongue. With a sense of vindication, you open your mouth, letting him in. His tongue slips in easily enough and within seconds, you’re biting down as hard as possible. Blood pools into your mouth as you let go and he wheels back, hand clapping onto his mouth. You spit his own blood at him. 

“Untie me.” The hand on your leg slides down to your knee and grips it, twisting painfully. You suck in a breath, refusing to give him the satisfaction of crying out. His other hand, covered in blood, brushes across your cheek before clamping down on your mouth. For a brief moment you think he’s going to strangle you. His long nails dig viciously into your cheeks as he sneers down at you. 

He lets go though and sits back with a chuckle. “He told me you were a fighter,” he says, wiping blood off his mouth. “Not at first, but in the later years.” 

“Fuck him and fuck you,” you snap. He laughs again and presses his torso against you, resting his cheek on your shoulder. He turns his head towards you, breaths into your ear. 

“Well,” he whispers. “If you insist.” His hand slides up your shirt, brushes against the hem of your pants before venturing up further. He ghosts past your scars, brushes his fingers across a nipple. You exhale a breath and feel him grin, blood dripping onto your neck. His other hand finally lets go of your knee and moves up your leg, running light circles around your inner thigh. You gasp, leg twitching involuntarily. 

“Why are you doing this?” you mutter, struggling to keep your nerves under control. You swallow thickly, try to remember how to breathe, as he sits up and stares into your eyes. 

“I want what’s mine,” he says simply. His hand inches closer to your crotch. You shift, attempt to get his hand away from you, but he stays firmly in place, lightly stroking your leg. 

“I belong to no one,” you reply, shakily. His grin widens. You wish he wasn’t bleeding. He looks far more menacing with blood all over his face. 

“You want it too.” 

“I don’t.” 

“Why must you lie?” he asks. His hand brushes up your crotch, applying just enough pressure to feel it through your clothes. You hate the way you gasp… hate the way your hips twitch into the touch. “Gonna deny it now?” 

“When Nepeta and Equius-“

“They won’t,” he snaps. “I made sure of it.” Dread floods your stomach as you stare at him, struggling to hold back tears. “Shhh,” he murmurs, gently wiping away unshed tears. “No crying. You’ll love this. Promise.” You break eye contact, turning away from his touch, and stare up at the security camera. Why did you ever make him turn it off? Would he even be able to see what’s happening? No…. you wouldn’t want anyone to ever see this. Never again. 

“I don’t want this,” you say again. 

“Maybe not now, but you will. After all, old habits die hard.” His hand dips into your pants and you…. just…. 

 

_ Smoke billows around you as you lean against the wall of the school. Moments like these were you only chance to get away from life for a bit. Sure, you were skipping class and Bro would probably be pissed if he knew, but you really couldn’t seem to care. You inhale a lungful of smoke and blow it out slowly, watching it join its brethren in the air around you.  _

_ “You shouldn’t be smoking.” Karkat’s standing a short distance off from you, arms crossed and scowl on his face. You bring the cigarette back to your lips, staring him down through your shades, and fill your lungs with the stuff. His scowl deepens as you defiantly blow it in his direction.  _

_ “Are you  _ **_trying_ ** _ to kill yourself?!” he snaps, stepping just a bit closer. You shrug your good shoulder and put the thing out against the wall. “What happened to your arm?” _

_ “Fell down the stairs,” you mutter, itching for another smoke. Karkat would kill you if you lit up again though. Besides, even you have limits to how much you’ll smoke in a day.  _

_ “You fell down the stair.”  _

_ “My foot caught on my ankle and down I went,” you explain. “Dislocated my shoulder.” It hurt like hell too but nothing you’ve never dealt with before. He’s staring at you like he can’t tell if you’re lying or not. It’s the truth though. Mostly.  _

_ “Is that why you weren’t in school yesterday?”  _

_ “Yeah.” No…. no it wasn’t but like hell you’re going to tell him the truth. He doesn’t need to know. Nobody needs to know. Even if they did, you wouldn’t want them to.  _

_ “Well I hope you get better,” he says, eyeing the sling. You hate the damn thing but the doctor put you under strict orders. It’ll give your arm time to heal or some bullshit. It makes your other shoulder ache from the pressure of the strap though.  _

_ “That’s what pain meds are for,” you reply, smirking.  _

_ “Yeah, well… don’t go getting addicted to them,” he grumbles, face softening slightly. You shrug again. Not like you’re actually taking them. A little pain is worth being lucid.  _

_ “Aww, is someone worried?” you tease. He sputters, face going red and mouth opening to retort. “It’s fine. I won’t get addicted. Promise.” The bell rings, startling both of you. He looks at you and grabs your backpack off the ground.  _

_ “Don’t want to be late for biology,” he mutters. You sigh, knowing there’s no skipping this class. It’s one of the few you share with Karkat and he’s very adamant that you don’t miss this one. Or any of them for that matter but mostly bio. You’re pretty sure it’s because you sit next to each other and do group projects together. The class is probably boring when you aren’t around.  _

_ “Of course not, love,” you reply, following after him. He shoots you a glare over his shoulder. You waggle your brows at him. He frowns but chooses not to say anything. You obediently follow him back into the school, grateful that he’s carrying your bag. It certainly eases the ache in your shoulders.  _

 

You wake up on your side. Your head hurts. The room is completely empty. There’s not even any sign that Gamzee was in here last night. You sit up and stare down at your hands. They shake with small tremors and if not for the phantom sensation of being retrained, you’d be convinced it was all a nightmare. The events from last night rest hazy in your brain. It’s all largely a blur aside from the part where he…. Kissed you…. Just thinking about it makes you feel nauseous. You need a shower… a long, hot shower. It’ll have to wait though. Karkat should be coming around soon. It suddenly occurs to you that you don’t even know what time it is. 

Sighing, you place your shades back on your face and turn your phone on. Text messages and missed calls instantly flood to it. There’s a few from Nepeta. You check those first because they seem somewhat urgent. Part of you is worried about her, though relief fills you upon reading what she has to say. She’s not feeling well it seems. Went home to rest. You shoot her a quick text, wishing her to get well soon, and move onto the ones from Karkat. After reading a few of them, you decide to give him a call. He picks up almost instantly. 

“Where _ are _ you?” he snaps. 

“I’m…. at the studio?” Where you were when you went to sleep last night. The exact same place you are right now. Where does he think you are? 

“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for over an hour! Why wasn’t your phone on?” Oh… he’s worried. Guilt floods through you. You shouldn’t have made him worry like that. Knowing him, he was probably jumping to all sorts of conclusions. 

“Sorry…” you mutter, standing up and stretching. “I turned it off… wanted some time to myself.” 

“You never turn your phone off… Is everything okay?” No…. no everything is not okay. It’s far from okay. Gamzee…. And you just let it happen. You don’t want to think about it though. Not right now. Not while talking to Karkat. 

“I’m fine,” you reply. “I just wanted to sleep without my phone going off every minute. Sorry for making you worry. Where are you?” 

“I’ll be there in five minutes… are you sure everything’s okay? I talked to Nepeta. She didn’t sound too good.” Fuck. What did Gamzee do to her? You’re going to kill him if she got hurt. 

“Yeah,” you murmur, reining in your thoughts. “Maybe she got food poisoning or something.” 

“Maybe…” he mutters sounding entirely unconvinced. “Well I’ll be there soon so….” Yeah, okay. You roll your eyes, smiling, say your goodbyes and hang up. He’s so awful at telling you when he needs to get off the phone. It’s kinda cute, in an awkward way. 

Sighing you turn to the mirror and inspect your face. You were concerned there’d be marks after Gamzee grabbed you last night. If there were any though, they seem to be mostly faded. There’s only one red mark left and even that’s hard to see unless you know where to look. Well. At least Karkat won’t see anything amiss. That thought gives you small consolation considering you still won’t tell him for whatever reason. 

The dull ache in your head only seems to grow as you go back over to the bed and fold it back into the couch. You really should tell Karkat what happened but he’d make you fire Gamzee at the very least. Firing him is not something you want to do. In some part of your brain firing Gamzee means he wins. He can’t win. You won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he got to you like that. Once filming is over, then you can tell Karkat (maybe…) file a restraining order against Gamzee (…maybe…) and never see his ugly mug again. Yeah… you can handle this. Totally under control. Not a single problem to be had.

 

You nearly burst into tears the moment you see Karkat walk through the door. The guilt’s already eating away at you. Why did you ever think you could hide this from him? He doesn’t seem to notice much amiss though… or at least he doesn’t comment as he hands you breakfast and your change of clothes. 

“I hate to just drop this shit off and run,” he grumbles. “But Kankri’s making me do more wedding shit today so I’m on a tight schedule.” It disappoints you a bit. You love having breakfast with Karkat. Sitting at the table in the mornings, not talking and simply enjoying each other company, truly is a good way to start the morning. Things get a bit hectic when you’re filming though. 

“Well, thanks for bringing them,” you reply, peeking into the bag of food he’s brought. It’s French toast with some bacon, a hardboiled egg, and a little dipping cup of syrup. You give him a small smile and a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you tonight, yeah?” 

“You better,” he growls, but it holds no venom. He looks more tired than usual. You suspect he slept poorly last night since you weren’t there. It’s weird how sleeping with others can affect your sleep schedule. Their presence is just that comforting. You certainly miss him when either of you are busy. 

“I’ll do my best,” you say, laughing a little. You make a mental note to end things early today. The break will be good for everyone. Can the schedule fit an extra day off? Now that you’re thinking about it, that might not be such a bad idea. You’re ruminating on the thought when Karkat bids you farewell. You watch him go and then sit down to eat breakfast. 

 

Thankfully, Gamzee isn’t on set today, a fact you are extremely grateful for. You’re already in a foul mood after last night, and seeing his face wouldn’t end well. In all honesty, you’d probably punch him... or have a mental break down. Either option is bad though given word would no doubt get back to Karkat. You aren’t ready for that conversation. You hope you’ll never need to have that conversation. It’s probably a bad idea to keep secrets but… the thought of telling him makes you feel just as sick as not telling him. It’s just… complicated. 

“Dave.” You startle, nearing dropping your e-cig, and scowl at Cronus. “Sorry…” he mutters. 

“It’s fine,” you mumble back, fiddling with the cig in your hand. 

“Are you okay?” You bristle, irritation flaring, scowl deepening as you level him with a glare. He shrugs, lighting up his own smoke. “You just seem distracted today is all.” 

“Didn’t sleep well.” And boy, is that the understatement of the century. All you want to do right now is go home and shower for five hours… and then watch movies with Karkat. Well, either way, you’re shooting one more scene today and going home. It’ll put you behind schedule but it’s worth it. 

“Well… don’t push yourself too much. Karkat won’t be happy if you get yourself sick.” 

“What, did Karkat put you up to this or something?” you ask, jokingly. Cronus goes oddly still. You glance at him and… yeah, that sure is one hell of a guilty face. God he must be awful at poker. The implications of what you just said and the look on his face suddenly hit you. Fucking hell… you  _ knew _ it! “He did, didn’t he?” you snap, turning on him. 

“Look,” Cronus grumbles, taking a step back. “All he did was ask me to keep an eye on you. Make sure you don’t work yourself into a coma. Who am I to say no to that? I’d want the same for Kankri if the situation was reversed.” 

“Just feels like he can’t trust me to tell him when something’s wrong,” you grumble.

“I mean… in his defense you have a bit of a history of keeping things to yourself,” he points out. It’s moments like these where you wonder just how much Cronus actually knows. You’ve long suspected Kankri’s told him just about everything. Though, what Kankri knows is also a mystery to you. They’ve all been very tight lipped about it. Probably because they’re trying to respect your boundaries or something. You’d find it annoying if it was any other family. 

“You should try trusting him with these things more,” he says, offhandedly. 

“I  _ do _ trust him!” you shout, hands balling into fists. Cronus stares at you, mouth hanging open in shock. Frowning, you cross your arms across your chest and turn away from him, fuming. Why does everyone think you can’t trust Karkat? Of course you can trust him. You trust him with your life… except on this one matter… and it’s not even about trust. You just… don’t need him fretting over you. You can handle this. 

“Sorry…” Cronus mutters, dropping his smoke on the ground and stomping it out. Your head hurts and you’re tired. Your eyes burn with tears you refuse to shed. These past two days have just been a lot to handle and you’re ready to go home and sleep for a week. “I just…” he says, sighing. “I just know how hard it can be to talk about personal things. Especially when it comes to your significant other… almost seems harder to tell them because they’ll overreact or worry about you. Communication is important though, no matter how difficult it might be.” 

“I know that…” 

“Knowing and doing are two different things.” 

“When did you get so insightful?” you mutter, flashing him a halfhearted glare. He has a point but you’re reluctant to flat-out admit it. 

“I blame Kankri,” he replies. The conversation dies down as the two of you head back inside. Just a few more hours and you’ll be home watching movies with Karkat. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone's wondering, this story is sitting at about 74 pages long and over 30,000 words. This is the longest story I've ever written in my life on my own. I'm very determined to see it through to the end. 
> 
> I have a special Valentine's Day chapter coming next. It'll feature Karkat's POV and takes place waaaay back in high school and is the first V-Day Dave and Karkat spent together. It's fluffy and disgustingly adorable. So something to look forward too!
> 
> See you all in a week or so!


	8. Valentine's Day Special

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Valentine's Day is perhaps my least favorite holiday and I still don't get why people celebrate it. In other news here's Dave and Karkat's first Valentine's Day together. It's disgustingly fluffy and will probably give you cavities (assuming you don't barf from sweetness overload first).
> 
> It's probably way more mundane than V-Day calls for but I don't really care. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Dave’s quiet. Reserved. He keeps to himself most days, though he’s equally as social. At least around you he is. You aren’t quite sure what to make of him…. Or his situation. You were mad, infuriated when you found out. Angry at Dave for not telling you. Angry at yourself for not knowing sooner. Angry at his brother for what he did. Most importantly though, you were upset that it went on for so long and Dave said nothing. He suffered in silence for reasons you’ll never fully understand. 

The months that followed were hard. Dave left that horrible place and came to live with you. He cried. A lot. He spent a good amount of time locked in his room, left to his thoughts, talking to no one. A part of him, you suspect, needed that time to truly process what was happening. You did the best you could; comforted him when he allowed it. You were there for him in some attempt to make up for the time when you weren’t. 

Dave didn’t understand Christmas. His brother apparently rejected the idea of celebrating for reasons that were never elaborated on. Halloween was completely lost on him too… The holidays in general weren’t really Dave’s thing. Many of them resulted in his brother doing special events for the viewers. He won’t go into details, but it was something he mentioned in passing one day. 

Now, though, you want to change that. It hasn’t even been a year, but you want to give the holidays back to Dave. You want to bring the meaning back to them… return some of his lost innocence. Valentine’s day is only a few days away. Dave’s been getting antsy about it. Out of every holiday, it seems this is one is his least favorite. Even so, you want to try and make it special for him. He deserves that much. 

“Karkat,” Kankri mutters, gaze watching you pace back and forth from his seat at your desk. Around you are balled up pieces of paper; aborted ideas littering the floor. “Karkat,” he says a bit more forcefully and you stop to glare at him. “You’re over thinking it. Simple is better.” 

“It has to be perfect though,” you grumble. 

“Just get him some chocolates and watch a movie together,” he suggests. “Don’t over complicate things. He’s anxious enough as it is.” 

“I just… I don’t want him hating this day so much. I want to make it meaningful.”  

“If you do too much he’ll feel like he owes you,” he says, and you sigh. The last thing you want is him feeling like he has to repay you somehow. Dave seems to have this idea that nothing comes free and every favor needs to be returned in some way. You… don’t want him to feel obligated. This is your gift to him. “He’ll probably already feel that way though,” he mutters offhandedly. 

“Wow.  _ That _ makes me feel  _ so _ much better.” 

“Why don’t you just  _ ask _ him what he wants to do then?” 

“Because he doesn’t  _ want _ to do anything.” 

“So don’t do anything,” he says exasperated. “Just spend the day with him like any other day. I never understood why such a day needed to be special anyways. All it does is put unnecessary pressure on couples and create unfair relationship goals. All so businesses can make money off of people.”

“I get it,” you grumble. “You hate the holiday.” Doesn’t mean he has to ruin it for you. You personally love Valentine’s Day and not because anyone tells you to but because it gives you more reason to show people you care about them…. that and the discount candy the day after. 

“I’m merely trying to alleviate any societal pressures you may be feeling regarding Valentine’s Day.” 

“ _ I _ want it to be special,” you say. “ _ I _ want to do this for Dave and not because I feel obligated to.” 

“Just keep it simple then,” he replies. “Get him some chocolate, a card, and watch a movie of his choice. You don’t need to do any more than that right now. Just like all the other holidays, Dave needs to be eased into the normalcy of this one too. Don’t overwhelm him.” Fuck, he’s right. You hate that he’s right. You huff giving in. 

“Yeah, okay.”

 

The smoke detector going off is what wakes you up. That shrill, muffled beeping startles you out of your sleep faster than any alarm ever could. Cussing, you throw the blanket off and jump out of bed, racing up the basement stairs. The hallway is hazy as you fling the door open. The smell of burnt food wafts in your face. Cautiously, you make your way to the kitchen. 

You round the corner and… find Dave? He’s standing by the stove trying desperately to wave away the smoke coming off the pan. Beside him sits a plate with a stack of black, crispy…. Something. He mutters to himself, face scrunched up in worried focus. 

“Dave?” He jumps and whirls around to face you, blush settling heavily across his cheeks. He reflexively grabs at his shades which are tucked in his shirt collar. “Are you… cooking?” 

“Uh…” he replies, face getting impossibly redder. “Yes? Um… trying to at least…” You snort and cross the kitchen. His eyes are watery as you get a better look at his concoction. You’d think he was crying if the kitchen wasn’t so smoky. The things on the plate, you notice, are vaguely heart-shaped. There’s a bowl of pancake batter sitting next to the plate. You blink. He… tried making you pancakes…. 

“I’m sorry!” he blurts, voice full of panic. “I was just…. They told me how much you like Valentine’s Day and I just… wanted to do something special for you because you’re always doing things for me and I don’t really get  _ why _ people need one day a year specially for their loved ones but I just wanted to do something nice for you for once and-“ You laugh, cutting off his rambling. His brows crease in confusion. 

“You’re an awful cook,” you say, smiling. A smile cracks across his face, hesitant but happy nonetheless. You reach over and turn the burner off, removing the pan before it can burn any more than it already has. “Why don’t we start over and do it together this time?”

 

You have Dave cut up some strawberries while you make new pancakes; the old ones end up in the trash. Dave insists on making some chocolate chip pancakes which you grudgingly oblige. You decide to teach him how to scramble eggs which he somehow manages to screw up. Lesson of the morning? Dave can’t cook. 

 

“What the fuck, Dave?” you hiss, throwing your controller on the ground. He watches you out of the corner of his eye, snickering into his hand. “We’re on the same team you asshole. Stop killing me.” 

“It’s fun though,” he replies, gaze now focused fully on the screen. 

“You’re making us  _ lose. _ ” God. Why does he always do this? He  _ insists _ on being on the same team then proceeds to spend the whole game sabotaging the both of you. You don’t understand why he does it… or why he won’t play on opposite teams. It’s beyond your comprehension skills. The game ends and, surprise, surprise, you lose. “Let’s watch a movie.” 

“Yeah, okay.” 

 

You spend an hour arguing over what movie to watch before settling on one he likes and one you like. 

 

The tent’s all set up, fake campfire included, when Dave finally comes back down to your room. He pauses in the doorway, gaze taking in the scene before him. 

“I thought we could go camping,” you say from your spot by the ‘fire’. “But, you know, without the bugs and stuff.” 

“Shit,” he says, grinning widely. “I love camping.” 

“Have you even  _ been _ ?” He nods sitting next to you on the floor. 

“A few times actually,” he says, smile fading just the slightest. “My parents took me when I was really young…. And then Bro after that…. He… I guess it was his way of trying to cheer my up after mom and dad died. We’d lay out in a huge field together in the middle of the night and make up names of constellations.” A bittersweet tone flickers across his words at the memory. It’s moments like these when you get most angry. You can’t help but wonder how much he’s struggling right now. How hard is it to sort out your feelings for such an awful family member? There’s clearly good memories buried under all the bad. 

“We’d make s’mores,” he continues. “Though they never got past the marshmallow roasting. His always caught on fire and mine always fell off the stick.” 

“So it runs in the family then.” He laughs at that, a soft, light hearted sound coming out of his mouth. His eyes shine with unshed tears. “Um… so… I got you something,” you mumble, hoping to change the subject. He looks at you, relief flooding over his features. Blushing, you hand him a bag with a card taped to the front. In true Dave Strider fashion, he opens the present without checking the card first. 

“Aw, heck yeah!” he says, digging into the bag and pulling out assorted candy. “Got me the big bars too!” 

“You’re supposed to read the card first,” you grumble, smiling yourself. It’s some cheesy, over the top card you picked up the other day. You weren’t going to do a card but it fit his personality so perfectly you couldn’t not get it. He rips the card open and laughs so hard he cries. 

You watch a few more movies after that, camping out in the tent to bring the whole thing together. Once it’s dark out and the stars on the ceiling have been illuminated long enough, you turn the lights off and lay on the floor with Dave. Together, the two of you make up stories about the stars in the sky, chatting long into the night. Eventually, you get tired though and Dave sleepily crawls into the tent with you, curling up against your side. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter goes up Sunday. Here's hoping I'm able to finish it on time! I'm going to go read some angsty shit now to get over this fluff.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, another early update! Don't get used to it though, I will be going back to Sunday updates soonish... my personal laptop is currently being fixed (charge port broke and it wasn't charging) I should be getting it back today (hopefully) and if not, then probably Monday. As such, I can't promise a new chapter next Sunday as my chances to write are currently very slim. 
> 
> In other news, I'm seriously blown away by how many of you are enjoying this. When I first started writing, I wasn't really sure how well received it would be. You've all made me very happy and I'm loving all the comments. 
> 
> If you want to chat in-depth on the story, and I'd love to hear from all of you, I can be found over on tumblr at: yaoistmotherfuckerwhoeverlived.tumblr.com (Seriously, come talk to me, I don't bite and I'd love to chat!)   
> I will most likely be posting the story on there in the near future as well, so it would be a great chance to read it all over again! 
> 
> I also wanted to give a disclaimer (and I guess a spoiler alert?) This story doesn't have a happy ending. I know many are hoping for it, but it won't be happening. I CAN promise though, that the sequel will end in a wedding. Either way, the series as a whole will have a happy ending, just not this part specifically. 
> 
> Either way, please enjoy today's update!

You make sure to stop at that Chinese place Karkat loves so much on your way home. Everyone was pleasantly surprised when you ended things early today. They all certainly made sure to get things done in one shot, that’s for sure. You’re in pretty high spirits by the time you walk through the door. 

Karkat’s not home though, which would be odd if you didn’t know he was out with Kankri. Maybe Cronus will surprise Kankri by being home early and Karkat will return… or they’ll just have brotherly bonding and Cronus will have some alone time. You sigh, placing the food in the fridge and head to the bathroom to run a bath. As the tub fills, you pick out a bath bomb to complete the mood. This one makes bubbles, which you eagerly crumble under the faucet. You watch the bubbles form before turning to flip through your music, looking for the perfect relaxation playlist. 

That’s where he finds you when he finally gets home. You’re peacefully soaking in a hot tub, relaxing music echoing down the hall, when Karkat steps into the room. 

“Long day?” he says. You turn your head and open your eyes, looking up at him. The scowl on his face softens; a small smile dances briefly across his face. 

“I bought dinner,” you reply. His eyes widen briefly in surprise before he’s full out smiling. You can’t help but smile back. “It’s from that Chinese place you like.” 

“Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?” The bubbles in the bath have long since fizzled out, but the water remains blue. Karkat kneels down and sits against the wall, hand dipping into the lukewarm water. “Cronus said you seemed tense today,” he says as casually as if he was discussing the weather. His fingers swish the water around idly. “Did you sleep okay last night?” 

“Not really,” you reply. “You know how it is sleeping in strange places.” You don’t say anything about your conversation with Cronus. It’s not worth the resulting argument. Besides, he’s only trying to look out for you. Gamzee’s just making you feel bad. 

“You slept there for a whole month during that one movie.” 

“That was like… six years ago.” 

“Try two and a half.” 

“Point being,” you grumble, sinking into the water. Your hands are getting wrinkley. Should probably get out soon. “I don’t do it very often so it messes with my sleep.” 

“Well why don’t you get out,” he says, rising to his feet. “You look like you’re going to pass out any moment. I’ll heat up the food and we can watch some movies.” 

“I think I’d like that.” 

 

You end up falling asleep ten minutes into the first movie. 

 

Karkat wakes you up in the morning with breakfast in bed. Apparently you slept through the part where he carried your heavy ass to bed. He places a tray of food down in your lap and leaves without a single word. You wait patiently for him to return with his own food. 

“What’s the occasion?” you ask as you begin digging into the waffles before you. 

“A weekend off to do whatever the fuck we want.” 

“Alright,” you say, smiling softly. “So what are we doing?” He shrugs, taking a bite of his own food. 

“Whatever you want,” he says once he’s swallowed. You suggest the first thing to pop in your head.

“Laser tag.” He grins, eyes lighting up in challenge. 

 

“Dave.”

“Yes, dear?” 

“When I suggested spending the day together that didn’t mean with fifty of your fans too.” You grin at him, slipping the laser tag armor on over your head. It was unintentional really, and Karkat should have known you’d tweet about it, but you didn’t expect people to  _ actually _ show up. You paid for everyone to play at least three rounds. Winning team gets ice cream after. Seems fair enough. 

Karkat frowns as a pair of kids dart between the two of you. He crosses his arms. “And why do we have to be on different teams?” Awww. He wants to play with you. 

“More fun this way,” you reply, handing him his own laser tag equipment. He takes it, grumbling to himself as he puts it on. 

“I’m gonna kick your ass,” he says with a smirk, holding the gun up and pointing it at you. You smirk back. Yeah… today is going to be fun. 

 

Karkat leads his team to victory a grand total of five times. Yeah… you managed to collectively convince him to play five rounds. He thoroughly kicked your team’s ass. 

You go out for ice cream afterwards with everyone (even the losing team) because you’re feeling generous. It’s a great photo-op for your fans. You steal a shit ton of phones and take a shit ton of selfies with them. All in all, you have a fun afternoon. 

 

It’s not until later, when the two of you are home, that you finally realize something’s very, very wrong. Karkat’s in the kitchen making dinner when you slip into your office and log into Twitter. There in the various tweets and posted from the day. Past all the pictures from laser tag. Only two or three into the ones from your ice cream party. Standing in the back of some pictures is none of other than Gamzee, watching the activities. 

Your blood runs cold. You… aren’t even sure what to make of it. it makes sense that he’d know where you were; assuming he pays attention to social media that is. Is he following you on Twitter too? How do you even look that up?  _ Can _ you look that up? Oh god. What if Karkat sees? He doesn’t check social media that often though…. If ever. It’s not really his thing. So… by that logic… he shouldn’t ever see them. 

What the fuck, Dave? Are you really sitting here planning on lying to him some more? Even if you don’t say anything it’s still lying through omission… right? Shit. What the actual fuck. You need to tell him. He  _ has _ to know. You can’t though… and you don’t even know why you can’t tell him but you can’t.

A part of you wants to tell him, like,  _ really _ wants to tell him. You don’t know how though… never even told him the first time. He just quite literally stumbled into it then. You’ve never even fully talked to him about it all. He’s never asked. 

“Dave?” You jump and turn away from your computer to look at him. “Sorry…” he mutters. “Was just coming to let you know dinner’s ready.” You shut the laptop and rise to your feet, pushing any and every thought of Gamzee to the back of your head.

“About damn time,” you say as you walk past him. “I’m starving.” 

 

You spend the rest of the night playing videos game and at one point getting into a 2-player Uno match. It goes about as well as expected. With Karkat’s help you build another blanket fort and watch movies until the two of you pass out. 

 

Karkat decides he wants to go mini-golfing the next day. Apparently one of his followers tweeted the suggested to him last night and even went as far as recommending a place. It’s some new, indoor place with an underwater theme. 

“Don’t you dare tweet about this,” he says as the two of you walk out the door. 

“I would  _ never _ ,” you say innocently, slipping your shades on. He squints at you suspiciously, locking the door once you’re out of the apartment with him. “Someone probably will though, I hope you know that.” 

“I can only hope they’ll leave us alone,” he grumbles as you begin the walk to the elevator. You shrug, smiling to yourself. Today’s a good day. You aren’t sure why, but it feels like a good day. Besides… if you tweet about it Gamzee might show up and you don’t want to see him right now. Today is all about Karkat and what he wants to do…. which is apparently mini-golf. You’re not complaining though. You love mini-golf as much as he does. 

You spend five minutes arguing over who gets the red ball. A coin toss settles the bickering though it doesn’t stop your pout as Karkat smugly takes it. You settle for purple. 

“Alright, Karkat,” you say, rolling up your sleeves as you step up to the first hole. You place your ball on the ground and grin at him. “Take a video because I’m about to school you on getting a hole-in-one.” 

“When you fail,” he says, rolling his eyes but pulling his phone out anyways. “I’m posting this online so I can show all your followers how not perfect you are.” 

You  _ could _ swing the putter as hard as possible and send the ball rocketing around the course. It might hit someone though which is hilarious but not funny because it’ll look bad and they’d get hurt. You’re kind of obligated to get that hole-in-one now…. 

You eye the hole. This course in particular isn’t very hard. The hole, at least, is in sight. You just have to hit the ball hard enough and angle it just right to get it in one shot. Simple enough really. Except when you hit the ball it stalls halfway up the hill and rolls back to you. You glare at the stupid purple ball. This is all Karkat’s fault taking the red one from you and making you settle for an inferior color. He snickers beside you. 

“That doesn’t count,” you grumble, leaning down to reposition the ball. 

“Dave Strider, master of movies, sucks at mini-golf,” he replies, laughter in his voice. You frown at him, placing the putter behind the ball to try again. “Do it for the Vine, Dave,” he whispers. You smirk, flashing him a smug look as you bring the club way too far back. The grin on his face drops, eyes widening in horror as you swing far harder than you have any right to. The ball flies into the air, ricochets off the hill and hit Karkat square in the face.  

“FUCK,” he shouts, phone clattering to the ground as he clutches his face. The putter falls out of your hands as you quickly step over to him. He glares at you, hand clutching his bloody nose and hunching over to allow the blood to pool in his hand. 

“Shit, fuck,” you hiss, leaning over to get a better look. “Fuck. Karkat…. I’m sorry! It was an accident.” He merely shakes his head at you and turns towards the bathrooms. You grab his phone off the ground and hurry to catch up to him. There’s a staff member hovering by the door looking unsure of whether to go in or not. You wave him off and disappear inside. 

Karkat’s standing by the sink attempting to inspect the damage despite the blood running down his face. You sigh and grab some paper towel on your way over to him. 

“Take these,” you mutter, handing them to him. “You need to put your head back to stop the blood.” 

“Are you stupid?” he asks, taking the paper towels. “You’re not supposed to do that.”

“Um…. yes…. you are…” 

“It can make you choke on your own blood, dumbass.” 

“Does not.” 

“Prove it.” You huff, crossing your arms and frowning at his reflection in the mirror. His right eye is all watery and red…. and squinty…. 

“Did I get your eye?” you ask, concerned. 

“Maybe,” he replies. “It happened so fast I can’t really say  _ where _ it hit, but I think it was right at the corner of my eye.” 

“Is it broken?” He removes the paper towel and pokes at it, humming thoughtfully. It doesn’t do much for your nerves though… or the guilt getting ready to swallow you for giving your boyfriend a blood nose. 

“No,” he says finally, rinsing his hands off in the sink. “If I don’t ice it soon I’ll probably have a black eye in the morning, but otherwise it’s fine.” You fiddle with his phone, trying in vain to come up with an adequate apology, when the door swings open. An employee stands in the door, eyeing the two of you with concern. 

“Is everything okay?” he asks, gaze settling on Karkat. Karkat nods, rinsing the blood off his face and throwing the paper towels away. 

“Just peachy.” The employee blinks, shifting on his feet like he’s not sure what to do next. His gaze flits between the two of you again, brows creasing in thought. “You can leave now.” He jumps and quickly leaves to do something else. You wait until the door closes to say anything. 

“Sorry….” 

“It’s fine.” 

“I didn’t mean for that to happen.” 

“I know…. accidents happen.” 

“Are you mad?” He sighs and looks at you. 

“Yes.” Your stomach drops. You swallow thickly, blinking back tears. It’s a stupid reaction really… he can’t possibly be mad at you… right? He could be though… you did almost break his nose. Except that was an accident. Shit… you fucked up didn’t you? “Dave.” You jump and look at him, blinking back tears. “Did you hear anything I just said?” 

“Uh…” He rolls his eyes but there’s a smile playing across his face. 

“I’m not mad at you so stop freaking out, okay?” he says, again apparently. He steps closer and pulls you into a hug, kissing the top of your head. “You’re so predictable, you know that?”

“Doesn’t count coming from you,” you reply. “Know me too well.” He laughs a little and pulls away, hands sliding down to your hands to take his phone back. 

“I hope you know,” he says as he turns his attention to his phone. “That this is going online.” 

“You wouldn’t.” 

“I might,” he replies, smirking. “Word’s going to get out eventually though… assuming it hasn’t already.” Yeah, okay… he’s got a point. There has to be at least one person out there who’s Tweeted about it already. You’d be surprised if there wasn’t…. at least the video would prove it was an accident. God. Can’t you have any fun without the whole world talking about it? Why did you ever decide to become famous? 

You could be living the simple life right now, laying on the beach in the Bahamas, married to Karkat…  living off his family’s money. That would have been too easy though, and boring. Where would you even be with your life right now if you hadn’t become a director? 

“Yeah…” you say finally, shaking yourself out of your thoughts. “Probably shouldn’t let that rumor get too out of control. 

“Afraid Dad might find out?” 

“No way, your dad loves me. He’d never do anything.” Karkat laughs at that and you both finally leave the bathroom. A few curious eyes gaze in your direction but you’re otherwise left alone. A different employee hands you your balls and putter back. 

“He’s been so grouchy lately,” Karkat says as you step up to the first hole, again. “He’s spent the past year badgering me and demanding to know when we’re gonna get hitched and now he’s being all pissy about Cronus marrying Kankri. God, it’s like he can’t decide who to be mad at. I don’t even get why he said yes to Cronus when he doesn’t even like him.” 

“I would assume it because…. you know… Cronus makes Kankri happy?” He scoffs, setting his ball down to take the first turn. “Besides, it’s only a matter of time before he gets sick of the wedding shit and starts pestering you again.” 

“Or he starts bugging me  _ about _ the wedding because he needs someone to complain to and I happen to be that someone,” he grumbles, hitting the ball harder than necessary. Unlike you though, his doesn’t ricochet off anything or hit anyone. It bounces off the wall and rolls to a gentle stop near the hole.   

“I think he’s just trying to stay in touch, Karkat.” 

“I’m over there enough as it is. He doesn’t need to call me just to bitch at me.” You huff out  laugh and take your turn, flashing him a small grin when your ball knocks his away from the hole. 

“You know communication isn’t his thing.” 

“ _ How _ he ever won my mom over, I’ll never know.” 

“It’s probably that hidden soft side of his.” He scoffs again, rolling his eyes, and taps the ball into the hole. “You’re a lot like him, you know.” 

“I am not!” he snaps, face going red. You snicker and take you turn. Karkat’s face falls into a pout, arm crossing as he glares daggers at you. “Take it back, Dave.” 

“Why? It’s true,” you reply easily, stepping over to the next hole. “There’s no reason he would have taken me in if he didn’t have some sort of empathy. In fact, given his occupation, he was more likely to make me join the business rather than let me freeload off him.”

“You weren’t freeloading.” 

“Well I certainly wasn’t contributing to the household in any way.” 

“Dave,” he grumbles, and you look at him, face blank. “How many times do I have to explain this to you? We were friends and I was helping you out of a shitty situation. You’re not required to pay that back.” 

He has a point but even after all these years you still feel like you owe him. If it wasn’t for Karkat… you’re not sure where you’d be in life right now… or if you’d even be alive. You’ve spent so much time trying to pay him back only to come back empty handed. 

“I’m just saying that given the circumstances and statistically, I should have ended up on the streets,” you reply as he gets ready to take his turn. Thankfully, there aren’t many people around today, otherwise this conversation wouldn’t be happening. “Or dead, for that matter.” 

“Stop talking like that,” he mutters, hitting the ball down the course. 

“I mean… it’s true.” 

“But it’s not what happened,” he snaps, turning to glare at you. “So stop dwelling on it, okay? You’re in a better place now, away from danger, so stop dwelling on the past. It’s not good for you.”

Except you’re not away from danger… a better place, yes, but not out of danger. Guilt once again rears its ugly head as you debate on whether or not to tell him. You keep telling yourself it’s for his own good, but you’re becoming increasingly aware of how wrong that is. Karkat  _ does _ need to know… you just can’t tell him. He deserves better than this… but… he chose you even after uncovering the mountains of baggage. He chose to stay by your side knowing it would be a never-ending uphill battle.  Maybe it’s just  _ you _ who doesn’t deserve him. 

“Sorry,” you mutter, stepping up to take your turn. “Old habits die hard.” Gamzee’s voice echoes the sentiment in your head. You do your best not to puke. 

“Don’t miss,” Karkat says just as you’re about to hit the ball. You hesitate and hit the ball half as hard as you were planning to. It rolls to a stop just in front of the hole. 

“You jerk,” you mutter, trying and failing to sound annoyed. “That would have been a hole-in-one.”

“Not my fault you’re easily distracted,” he replies, lightheartedly. It’s a total ploy on his part… some attempt to distract you from negative thoughts and damn if it isn’t working. Karkat just knows you too well. You do your best to smother the grin on your face as you tap the ball into the hole. 

“That’s one,” you say, grabbing the scorecard from him. 

“Pretty sure it was two,” he says but does nothing to stop you from cheating. 

“And I’m pretty sure you were trying to cheat.” 

“ _ You’re _ the one putting down wrong scores!”

“It wouldn’t be wrong if you hadn’t messed me up.” 

“Horseshoes and hand grenades, Dave.” You stare at him and he scowls back. You know exactly what he’s referring too but does it really apply in this situation? His face starts to color as the reality of what he just said sets in. Yeah… it really doesn’t make sense in this context. “You know what I meant,” he hisses, grabbing his ball and stomping off to the next hole. 

“You didn’t even finish your turn,” you reply, walking quickly to catch up to him. 

“Give me a three.” You grin, jotting down his score as you come to a stop. The group ahead of you has fallen behind and you’ve managed to catch up to them. Not really surprising given it’s a group of five and, like you, they’ve just started. 

“You would’ve gotten that in two, you know.” 

“Then give me a two.” You hum thoughtfully, tapping the little pencil against your chin while you stare at the scorecard. 

“Nah,” you say. He huffs. “What? There’s no eraser and I already wrote it down.” 

“You are so insufferable,” he says but there’s laughter in his voice and a smile creeping back onto his face. “Why do I even put up with you?” 

“Because you love me.” 

“Yeah,” he says, smiling fondly. “I guess I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So hands down, my fave part of this was the bloody nose scene.... I laughed way harder at it than I should have. I spent way too much time writing their mini-golf date and ultimately ended it there because the chapter would have gotten too long. 
> 
> As always, I look forward to hearing from you all and hope you enjoyed a bit more fluff to go along with the V-Day Chapter. (This was originally going to be that chapter but I changed my mind half-way through writing this.) 
> 
> Until next time!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I am back! My laptop is fixed and this chapter is completed! We're probably looking at 2 more chapters of this story. I hope you're all prepared because I wrote the final chapter back in January and have been dying to post it. =) 
> 
> As always I can be found over on tumblr: http://yaoistmotherfuckerwhoeverlived.tumblr.com/
> 
> Enjoy!

You’re tired. So very, very tired. It’s not even lack of sleep (though that is a possible factor). It’s not really even stress (though that is _also_ a factor). No… the thing that has you so tired is Gamzee…. and Karkat on some level. Realistically, it’s probably the stress of keeping secrets from Karkat that have you so tired. It’s been weighing heavily on your mind for days now and you _still_ can’t bring yourself to tell him. You suspect he knows something’s up but he’s not saying anything. Though that might just be your paranoia talking and telling you he knows what the movie’s about. You’re clearly keeping one too many secrets from him.

It’s gotten so bad even the cast and crew are giving you funny looks. The other day you snapped at one of the boom mic operators for knocking over your coffee. You launched into a fifteen-minute tirade before sending everyone on an hour long break. At least one person cried. You went outside for a long smoke break only for it to be interrupted by Karkat calling. The break ended too soon in an argument with Karkat… you hung up on him. You locked yourself in one of the dressing rooms for forty-five minutes. It… wasn’t your best moment and he’s still mad at you.

Gamzee, on the other hand, has been… oddly leaving you alone…. you’re not sure if that’s a good thing, but it’s putting you on edge. He hasn’t even been coming outside to bother you during breaks. It’s just the two of you in the studio when you finally snap at him.

The door to the set creaks open, light cascading into the area as his silhouette steps inside.

“Mornin’” he mutters, giving you a small wave as he goes over to the food. You watch him, frowning as he pours himself some coffee and loads it up with way more sugar than should be legal. He moves over to the bagels next, muttering to himself as he picks what he wants from the bunch.

You can feel your irritation growing, facing turning into a nasty scowl. Who the _fuck_ does he think he is? Coming onto _your_ set and playing games with you. How _dare_ he act like nothing’s going on?! He turns around, blinks at you with his lazy eyes, and grins.

“What the _fuck_ is your problem?!” The grin drops and his face twists in confusion. It only serves to piss you off more. He has _no_ right to be confused!

“I-”

“Shut _up!_ ” His mouth audibly clicks shut. “You’re ruining my life and I don’t understand why,” you hiss, stepping closer to him. _Why_ did he come here? Your life has been so good so far (for the most part). Karkat has made you happy and yet here _he_ is messing it all up. Everything you’ve worked so hard to get past, everything reassurance Karkat has ever thrown your way… all of it went up in flames the day Gamzee showed up for auditions. You don’t want to be reminded of your past. You don’t want to think about _him_ … yet Gamzee has only made that harder. You can’t forget when he’s standing before you. You can’t ignore it when he’s _making_ you do things you don’t want to do… and yet for him to start ignoring you… You hate it...

“Why are you ignoring me?!” You don’t mean to say it. It slips out faster than you can stop it. Something in him changes then. It’s subtle at first, but quickly twists his face into a sort of smug satisfaction. It makes your stomach twist painfully.

“Miss me?” You’re suddenly excruciatingly aware of how alone the two of you are right now. It’s too early for anyone to really be here. You’re not even sure why Gamzee’s here.

“No,” you say with about as much conviction as a wet sponge. Whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean. He grins and steps closer to you.

“I think you do.”

“I don’t.” You don’t… really, really don’t… right? Don’t play into his games, Dave. It can only end in disaster.

“You’re lying again,” he says, drawing even closer to you.

“I’m not.”

“You are.” And he’s even closer now. You can’t tell how he’s moving across the room so fast. Or maybe you’re moving towards him… no… you want to be as far from him as possible… right? Right. Yes. That’s what you want. Him far, _far_ away from you and you with Karkat. The thought of Karkat grounds you and you take the moment to steady your own thoughts.

“I’m not lying,” you say, feeling more confident. “So stop telling me I am.” He sighs, shaking his head, and sets his stuff down on a nearby table.

“I don’t understand,” he says, crossing the final few feet to stand before you. His eyes are strangely sympathetic as he gazes at you. He brings his hand up and cups your cheek much like a lover would. You slap it away.

“Don’t touch me,” you hiss, taking a step back. When he doesn’t move to follow, you turn to leave – to go do something else- and he grabs your arm, pulling you back to him. With an angry snarl, you wheel around, hand clenched into a tight fist, and deck him in the face. His head snaps to the side so fast his neck pops. You watch, with a sick sense of satisfaction, as he stumbles away from you, hand clenching his cheek.

“I told you not to fucking touch me,” you snap. He stares at you stunned before his face contorts in rage and he lunges at you. Adrenaline begins coursing through your body, a smirk quickly forming, as you get in a stance to face him head on.

 

You lay on the floor panting and gasping for breath. Gamzee lays next to you in a similar state. Your everything hurts, and much of it is going to bruise later. The only consolation you currently have is that Gamzee will also be feeling it tomorrow. The fight was… oddly therapeutic. All the tension seems to have flown right out of your body when you were busy beating the shit out of Gamzee. Now that the high is starting to wear off though everything is beginning to ache and exhaustion is definitely setting in.

“Thinking you’ll tell Karkat now?” he asks between pants. You turn your head to look at him and the strangest sense of comradery settles over you. It’s gross, but strangely comforting.

“No,” you reply. It should make you sick. You don’t even know why you’re covering for Gamzee’s sorry ass… but you are… and oddly enough, it’s not making you want to puke. “Are you going to touch me again?”

“Probably,” he says, laughing a little.

“Fuck you.”

“I won’t stop,” he says, turning his head to look at you. “Not until you’re mine.” Something glints in his eye then. It’s that same possessiveness that was ever prevalent in _his_ eyes. You swallow back the sudden lump in your throat and sit up.

“That’s not what _I_ want though,” you mutter. “I’m happy with Karkat.”

“Then why haven’t you told him?” You don’t have an answer to that. After all this time you _still_ don’t have an answer for that. It hurts. Something deep in you breaks just the slightest bit more by knowing what you’re doing to Karkat. You don’t know how much longer you can hold out.

“Do you really think,” Gamzee says, finally sitting up as well. “That he’s going to stay with you when he finds out? He can’t possibly understand. Do you really think he’d even _want_ to understand? How do you think he’d feel? Betrayed most likely. Hurt. Heartbroken. Angry.”

You blink, tears springing to your eyes at the very suggestion. Karkat _would_ be angry. He’d think you couldn’t trust him… but you can… right? He couldn’t possibly think this was somehow your doing… Gamzee’s the one who forced it…. you haven’t even done anything. Except you haven’t told him anything and after promising you would.

“Who are you trying to protect really?” Gamzee asks. “Your relationship? Karkat? Or maybe you’re trying to protect your image. What would people think if they found out just how broken Dave Strider really is?”

“No…” you mutter, vision beginning to blur. “I’m not…”

“They wouldn’t understand,” he says, voice whisper soft. “They don’t know what you’ve been through. They can’t possibly understand how damaged you truly are. Nobody can understand. Nobody but me, that is.”

You glance at him, mind reeling in confusion…. Fear. Anxiety. What is he even trying to get at? What is he even saying? Karkat understands just fine… he doesn’t hate you or judge you for it. It was out of your control… none of it was your fault. He’s never asked you about it though… or when he has he’s never pushed it further than you’re comfortable with… does he even want to understand? You suck in a breath, chest feeling tight. Gamzee grins at you lazily.

“You can’t be intimate with Karkat.”

“That’s not-“

“The very thought of it makes you panic.” You choke back a sob, thankful that your shades are currently hiding the tears. How does he even know all this? Nobody should know. His grin grows wider. “Yet you let me touch you in ways he never could. Why is that?”  

Before you can reply, the door creaks open. You hastily get to your feet and try to pretend you weren’t just in a fight. Nepeta rushes in looking disheveled and stressed out, her messenger bag kicking out in front of her as she walks. You belatedly realize she’s an hour late. What the fuck. You’ve been here an hour already?

“Dave!” she says coming to a stop before you. “I’m so sorry! My alarm didn’t go off and I overslept! I came as fast as I could.”

“It’s fine,” you mumble, absentmindedly brushing a hand through your hair. She stares at you, eyes squinting in suspicion as the flit between you and Gamzee. Worry briefly flicker across her face. “I just wanted to have time to go over the schedule with you is all,” you say hoping to stop whatever train of thinking she’s on.

“Is everything okay?” she asks eyeing Gamzee. He grins and the cut on his lips splits back open, blood trickling out of it. Thankfully, he had the sense to avoid doing any damage to your face… or where it might show for that matter.

“Just peachy,” he says.

“You’re bleeding,” Nepeta mutters, pointing at her lip. Gamzee blinks, bringing up a hand to touch the cut. He pulls it away and stares at his finger. Nepeta stares at him and then her gaze is sliding back over to you. “Are you _sure_ everything’s okay? Did something happen?” You turn your attention to Gamzee and he grins, an eerie calm settling over the three of you.

“Got into a fight,” he replies. “I’m fine though.”

“I see…” Nepeta mumbles. “Well… go have some breakfast and clean up. Dave and I have some things to discuss anyways.” Gamzee shrugs and wordlessly steps back over to his forgotten food. That coffee is dead cold but he sips at it anyways. Once he’s out of earshot Nepeta rounds on you. “Dave.”

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” She huffs and crosses her arms struggling to keep the frown on her face. “Okay, okay,” you say, holding your hands up in surrender. “What’s up?”

“Is something going on with you two?”

“What.”

“You just…” she says, shrugging. “I don’t know. You get all tense whenever he’s close to you and you’ve been so irritable lately. I just… is he harassing you?” Fuck… now she’s worried about you…. how many people are you worrying? You feel a weight settle over you, adding onto the already existing guilt, as you prepare to lie once again.

“I’m fine, Nep,” you reply. “Do you really think I’d keep him around if he was? Karkat at the very least would know, yeah?” She squints at you, face scrunching up in suspicion.

“I guess,” she says and heaves a big sigh. “He just creeps me out, you know?”

“Yeah, well, he’s going to be done shoot his scenes soon,” you say. “So we won’t have to spend much time around him anymore.” Which means he’ll be out of your life and you’ll never have to see his ugly mug again. Everything can go back to normal and you can move on with your life.

“Right! So speaking of the schedule!” she chirps opening her bag and pulling out a binder overflowing with paper.

 

Karkat’s cooking dinner when you get home. The tangy smell of sweet and sour sauce wafts over to you as you wordlessly take your shoes off and leave your things by the door. As you walk by the kitchen you glance in his direction, but his back is to you focusing on whatever he’s cooking. Yeah… still mad. Sighing, you turn to head down to the hall.

“Dave.” You jump and backtrack a few steps into the kitchen. Karkat’s turned around now, frown on his face etched in worry. “What’s going on?” Tears spring to your eyes almost instantly, and you aren’t sure what to say. Telling him nothing’s going on is blatantly lying. Why that matters when you’ve been lying the whole time is beyond you but it does matter. Karkat won’t accept that answer anyways.

“I told you…” you mumble. “It’s just work getting to me.”

“You’ve been unusually tense lately, and you refuse to talk to me,” he says sounding hurt and it cuts you deep. “Why?”

“I just want the movie to be perfect… guess it’s getting to me more than usual.” It’s not the answer he wants. It’s _far_ from the answer he wants. You know that… but you can’t tell him much more.

“Why are you lying to me?” You don’t know. Why do you keep lying? Why are you keeping secrets? How did it get this way?

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, not knowing what to say. He watches you for a long moment, sighs, and turns back to his cooking. Apparently there’s no reason to discuss it further. “Karkat…”

“I’m going to be staying at dad’s for a few days.”

“What…” What is he saying? Why is he saying this? You swallow thickly, chest suddenly feeling tight as you struggle to remember how to breath. Shit. You fucked up. This is always how it starts. He’s going to leave you and you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.

“I’m leaving in the morning.”

You numbly lock yourself in your office, mind blank. At some point, Karkat coaxes you out for dinner but you don’t remember much of the night after that conversation. You don’t remember what you ate, if anything. You don’t remember cleaning up dinner. As you lay down in bed that night, you don’t remember it ever being so big or empty.

 

Karkat wakes you up in the morning when he leaves.

“It’s only for a few days, okay?” he says, placing a light kiss on your temple. He doesn’t seem as mad anymore but that could just be wishful thinking.

“Okay.” He gives you a small smile which you weakly return, and then he’s moving towards the door, grabbing his bag on the way.

You stay in bed long after the door clicks shut behind him; your mind blank. The thought to call in sick briefly crosses your mind. You need the distraction though… and the company. Slowly, you drag yourself out of bed, take a shower and pack some overnight clothes.

 

Despite getting up late, you somehow make it to the studio far earlier than ever. Thankfully, nobody’s around as you step through the doors and drop your stuff off in the usual room. You make a mental note to let Equius know you’ll be staying for a few days.

 

Nepeta won’t stop giving you cautious and worried glances. She says nothing though and you’re grateful for that. You’re not mentally prepared for anything today and it must show because she ends up calling all the shots.

 

Cronus is the first to ask.

Around noon, Nepeta finally calls a lunch break and Cronus seizes the moment to drag you outside for a smoke break.

“What’s going on, man?” he asks, placing a cigarette in his mouth and lighting up. You shrug, gaze glued to the ground as you slump into the nearest bench. He’s silent for a long, _long_ moment. “Is this about Karkat?” You take a deep breath and nod, eyes stinging with unshed tears. You don’t trust yourself enough to speak right now. “Right,” he mutters, taking a seat next to you. “Kanny told me he’d be home for a bit.”

“I fucked up,” you mumble. Out of your peripheral, you can see him taking a drag and blowing out a large cloud of smoke.

“Nah,” he replies. “Their dad just has a lot he needs Karkat to do so it’s easier for him to just stay there. I mean… sure, some of it is probably to give himself some space…. Give him time to clear his head. Relationships are far from perfect though. You two are just in a rough patch right now.”

“He… didn’t tell me…” It shouldn’t disappoint you as much as it does… shouldn’t make you feel as betrayed as you do. After all, aren’t you the one keeping secrets? Don’t you deserve this?

“People do stupid shit when they’re hurting.”

“I never meant to hurt him.” He flicks his cig on the ground and stomps it out.

“Just give it a few days. Take the time to clear _your_ head and gather your thoughts. When he comes back you two can talk.” It should make you feel better.

It doesn’t.

At this point, nothing will make you feel better. Your life is falling apart and there’s not much you can do about it. If you tell Karkat, he’ll leave you for cheating. If you don’t tell him… he’ll leave because you’re keeping secrets. You can’t win. Nothing you do will make things better. Karkat won’t ever forgive you and you can’t blame him for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Until next time! B)


	11. Chapter 11

Cronus drags you out to dinner once everyone’s done shooting for the day. You don’t really want to go but he forces you anyways. He takes you to a small pizza place that a few minutes’ walk from the studio. How Cronus discovered this place is beyond you. It’s pretty empty as you push the door open and take a seat near the back. You peek at the menu placed before you.

“I’ve only been here a few times,” Cronus says, gazing at his own menu. “But their pizza is pretty good and they make them right over by those big ovens. I know that’s like… a stipulation of yours or whatever.” He flashes you a quick grin before returning to browsing the menu. Your gaze slides over to the area he indicated and sure enough, they’re doing all the prepping and cooking in plain view of the whole restaurant. You’d be grateful for his thoughtfulness if you were actually hungry.

“I’m not very hungry,” you admit, setting your menu on the table.

“You skipped lunch,” he replies, setting his menu down as well. “You need to eat.” You shrug, slouching in your seat as the server comes over to take your orders. She takes your drink orders and writes down the pizza Cronus requests for the two of you.

“I just don’t feel like eating right now,” you say once the server is gone.

“I know, but you’ll make things worse if you don’t eat.” Yeah… yeah it probably would make things worse, but your stomach’s already twisted in knots. Food probably won’t help. You really just want to sleep for the next month.

“My stomach kinda hurts.”

“Just try to calm down. Your nerves are getting the best of you, and stress from work probably isn’t helping. Like I said, Karkat isn’t going anywhere. Give it a few days to gather your thoughts and the two of you can talk when he gets back.” You sigh and cross your arms on the table, squishing your face into them.

“Does he hate me?” you mumble, wondering mostly to yourself. Cronus must hear you though because he lets out a huff.

“Karkat could never hate you,” he says. You wish you could believe it. Karkat probably _does_ hate you and if he doesn’t then his dad certainly does. Assuming Karkat told him that is…. Wouldn’t his dad come after you if he told? No…. but you’d probably get a nasty phone call.

“I fucked up, Cronus. I fucked up and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Well…” he comments just as the server appears with your drinks. You tilt your head just enough to see her place the drinks on the table and walk off again. “The first step,” Cronus continues after taking a sip of his water. “Would be to _actually tell_ someone what’s going on. Since you won’t do that though, I’m not too sure what to tell you.”

“I’m not even sure what to say…” you mumble. “Or where to even start for that matter.” Some unreadable expression flickers across his face then and you suddenly realize you’ve said too much. Or maybe not… but definitely enough to hint that something was indeed wrong.

“The beginning is always an option,” he suggests.

“I hate how insightful Kankri’s made you,” you grumble and he laughs a little.

“He’s definitely had a positive impact on my life, that’s for sure.”

“Has a date been officially set?”

“No,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Every time I think we have one, he comes up with some reason as to _why_ it’s not good enough. I think he just has the jitters.”

“Well… there are a lot of people to invite and I’m sure he’s trying to make sure they can _all_ come.”

“Could you imagine the fall out if he forgot to invite their third cousin twice removed?” You laugh a little because, yeah, the Vantas family is pretty big. Their family reunions are usually a weeklong event… and literally everyone shows up. You’re pretty sure it’s a requirement to know everyone before joining the family. Karkat always makes you study for weeks leading up to any gathering. It’s exhausting.

“Any Amporas planning on show up?” Cronus sucks in a breath, face wiping clear of emotion as he fiddles with the straw in his drink. It’s a bit of a touchy subject for him, you know that, but you couldn’t help asking.

“They’ll get an invite,” he says. “But I’m not getting my hopes up.”

“Eridan should at least show up, right?” He shrugs helplessly. Yeah… you can relate to that. The only difference is that you don’t want your family around.

Before he can say anything, the pizza arrives. You end up taking a slice. Partly because Cronus will most likely tell Karkat if you don’t but also because you think you can stomach a little food. The conversation sort of devolves into idle chatter.

Cronus walks back to the studio with you, though he climbs into his car soon after and heads home for the day. You check your phone as you head inside. There’s not even so much as a text from Karkat…. Maybe you should try calling him. Would he even want that? What would you even say?

Your phone lights up as you stand there staring at it. Rose’s name and picture flash across the screen but she’s the last person you want to talk to right now. When was the last time you even called her? You mentally calculate the time between your last phone call and…. Yeah… it’s been a while. Is she calling because of Karkat or just to check up on you? You send it to voicemail, not really wanting to talk to her right now. You shut your phone off after that, not wanting to talk to anyone.

You pull your laptop out and spend the rest of the night watching Youtube videos.

 

Incessant banging on the door startles you awake. Groaning, you roll over and climb to your feet, trudging over to the door.

“What,” you hiss, cracking the door open enough to peek out. Gamzee grins at you. Before you can get the door closed, he’s shoving it open and coming into the room.  

 

He stays until late into the night, doing nothing but keeping you company. You spend a lot of time watching various Youtube videos, some that he shares with you and other that you share with him. He doesn’t talk about Karkat. You don’t mention it. You’ve just finished watching a review on your latest movie when he decides to head hom. The sun is just beginning to turn the sky pink when he leaves.

You suspect he might not be as awful as initially thought.  

 

“Karkat still not talking to you?” You sigh, and give Gamzee a frown as he comes into your private little smoking area. He’s the only one other than you that seems to be aware of its existence. You hate that.

“It’s not like that,” you grumble, taking a drag of your smoke.

“He knows you’re keeping a secret,” he points out, taking a seat next to you. “And rather than talking to you about it, he runs off to daddy.”

“He had family stuff to tend to.”

“Simply an excuse for leaving.” The statement stabs through your heart and you suck in a breath to steel yourself for a moment. He flashes you a lazy smile, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket. The look in his eyes is anything but friendly though. “Seems to me,” he says, placing the cig in his mouth. “That it’s a precursor to actually leaving you.”

“It’s just a misunderstanding…”

“One that you refuse to correct,” he points out. “Don’t trust him to get where you’re coming from, I take it.”

“As soon as this movie’s over,” you snap anger flaring. “You’ll be out of my life and I never have to see you again.”

“Won’t change the fact that you lied to Karkat. Or that you kept me a secret. He might never know, but you will… and that knowledge will stay with you. Eat at you until you can’t take it anymore. How understanding will he be then? If he doesn’t leave now, he certainly will then.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know I’d never be that way. Sleep around all you want,” he says, shrugging. “Doesn’t matter to me because at the end of the day, you’re still mine, and I’m still the only one who knows what you’ve been through. The only one who _truly_ knows what you are.”

“I _never_ asked for what my brother did to me,” you hiss. He has no idea what type of abuse you went through. He doesn’t know how many years Karkat stood by you whil you sorted out your feelings. It took years to get past it all and how he’s trying to mess that up. Wants to ruin everything… and for some sick pleasure he’s getting out of it.

“You may not have asked for it, but you liked it. Came to enjoy it over time, and now here you sit, denying it all. Lying to yourself.”

“I’m not lying.”

“I _saw_ the videos,” he snaps, and it startles you. It’s the first time you can recall him snapping at you. He frowns, anger simmering just below the surface of his eyes. “I spent hours watching those videos. So don’t tell me you aren’t lying. Don’t tell me you didn’t like it. You did and you’re denying something that’s ingrained into your very being.”

You stand up slowly, eyeing him like a snake about to strike. Something’s changing and it’s sitting funny in the pit of your stomach. He stands as well, frowning deeply.

“I think you need to leave now,” you say. “I don’t want you on my set anymore.” He barks a laugh and grabs your arm, squeezing tight. You hiss, tugging against him. His grip simply tightens as he pulls you close to him.

“How do you plan on stopping me?” he asks. “Not like you can tell anyone what’s been going on. Imagine the scandal.”

“I’d rather the scandal at this point.”

“Don’t make me laugh,” he growls. “It would ruin your career. People would look at you differently. And once the dam breaks? There’s no turning back. Your whole past will be thrust into the spotlight. Do you really think Hollywood would be so forgiving of someone who fucked their brother? Someone who _fucked_ their _guardian_?”

You stare at him, chest tightening as you momentarily forget to breath. He’s right and they can’t know. No matter how you spin it, the truth will get out. Everyone will know… and how many more will come forward to share the evidence? He had so many subscribers…

“Karkat will leave,” he continues. “He’ll abandon you to save his own face and protect his family’s business from getting to much attention. After all, can’t have the cops sniffing around too much, right?”

“What do you want from me?” you ask, weakly. He grins, and grips your arm tight, dragging you off to an even more secluded location.

 

Gamzee’s kissing you; lips pressing hard against yours and tongue exploring every inch of your mouth. You suck in a breath through your nose and grab the back of his, gripping his hair tight. He hisses, breaking the kiss and moving on to peppering them down your jawline. His hands travel up your shirt, brushing against your scars. He presses a kiss next to your ear.

“Such a good puppet,” he whispers. Your hands momentarily go slack in his hair before they’re gripping against and pulling him closer. He sighs and presses closer to you. “ _Good,_ Cal.”

You sigh, relaxing completely in his grasp. Your mind spins, clouding over in confusion and the slightest trace of… happiness? Pride? Arousal? No… no that…

You gasp.

Blink.

Gamzee’s leaning against the wall now, hands gently carding through your hair as you kneel before him. You’re licking a line up his erection. _Why?!_ Gently take the head into your mouth, tongue swirling around the tip. _No._ He presses encouragingly against the back of your head and you take him in deeper. _Stop!_ Gamzee mutters praises to you from up above. It…. makes you happy? Goes straight to your own arousal. You gaze up at him not knowing why or what’s going on. How did you even get to this point? There’s a significant block of time you are currently missing. It should alarm you, but it doesn’t.

Your body seems to be running on autopilot. He grins down at you, your shades sitting on top his head. At least he has the decency to make sure they’re safe. Drool dribbles down your chin. You swallow. He groans, pressing more against your head. He doesn’t stop until you’ve taken him in fully.

“ _Good,_ Cal,” he hisses, brushing hair out of your face. You groan around his dick, eyes fluttering shut; body practically glowing in praise. He cums moments later. You swallow like the obedient child you were raised to be.

Your chest hurts as you pull away from him; eyes burning. Horror washes over you, crushing whatever was left of your boner. You can’t bring yourself to care though… not as the reality of what just happened crashes over you. Guilt quickly follows. You just… _why?!_ And… Karkat. Karkat… what is he going to think? Your chest feels tight, stomach twisting uncontrollably. You suck in a breath, hand clasping over your mouth in a vain attempt to stay together.

_What did I just do?!_ A sob slips out of you and the dam breaks. Your body shakes, tears spilling down your face that your violently wipe at. You just…. Karkat… Karkat’s never going to forgive you. _Why_ did you do it? WHAT JUST HAPPENED?! All these years. You’ve been so loyal all these years… how could you do this to him? You have to tell him… but you can’t.

“You won’t tell him,” Gamzee mutters, dropping your shades in your lap. “You haven’t before so why start now? Stop panicking.” You blink, gaze focused on your sunglasses. A stray tear drops on the lens. Gamzee steps away from you, tucking himself back into his pants.

His footsteps slowly fade away as he leaves. You grab your shades and stand up, placing them back on your face. Your stomach lurches. You throw up.

At some point, you drag yourself back inside. Nepeta flashes you a worried look but you brush it off. No point in talking to her anyways. Cronus is the one to stop you.

“You okay?”

“No…” you mumble. His face scrunches up in worry, frown twisting his mouth. “Not feeling well,” you say before he can jump to his own conclusions. “Just… gonna go lay down for a bit…”

You lock yourself in one of the dressing rooms and collapse on the couch there. Your head hurts from crying. Your heart aches from what just happened. You’d cry but… there’re no tears left. You want to puke again.

You still don’t know what to tell Karkat.

There’s a knock on the door. Someone mutters your name. A muffled conversation takes place outside the door. The knob jiggles. You stare at the door in the dark listening to the conversation grow briefly in volume before dying down completely. Your phone buzzes in your pocket.

“Hey,” you mumble, answering the call without checking who it is first. You know who it is anyways. No point in checking.

“Dave,” Karkat says. “What’s going on?” Well… he doesn’t sound panicked so that’s probably a good sign. You sigh.

“I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie to me. Cronus _and_ Nepeta said you looked like you’d been hit by a car. What happened?”

“I’m just tired.” You could probably sleep for a week straight and still be exhausted; god would you love to fall asleep for the next few years. A coma would be preferable to the shit storm brewing. How did you even get into this mess?

You can hear a bunch of rustling from Karkat’s end. Some sort of conversation takes place and then he’s back.

“I’m coming to get you,” he says. There’s a momentary lull as you begin to reply. “Don’t argue with me.”

“I’m sorry…” you mumble, eyes welling up with tears. Your breath hitches.

“It’s okay,” he mumbles back, car beeping in the background as it unlocks. He doesn’t know. He’s reassuring you but he doesn’t know. Why is he being so forgiving?

“I never meant for this to happen,” you mutter, more to yourself than him. He needs to know. He deserves to know… but you can’t tell him. It would break his heart. He won’t trust you anymore…. He’ll blame himself.

How did you let it get this bad? Why didn’t you send Gamzee away when you had the chance? You could have fired him… told Karkat. You could have taken out a restraining order… so why did you let it continue? You could have stopped it at any moment… but you hurt him. Karkat’s going to feel so betrayed. He can’t trust you… never could trust you.

More like you could never trust him. Couldn’t trust him years ago and still can’t. Nothing ever truly changed now did it? You’re still the same kid all those years ago, hiding things from Karkat. Lying. Can’t even trust him enough to have sex with him… yet you just sucked Gamzee’s dick… after all these years, you just cheated on the one person to ever try and help you…

“Dave?”

You… you can’t do this. Karkat deserves someone better than you. He deserves someone who’s not broken. You can’t keep holding him back forever. All he ever does it look after you and how do you repay him? But proving you can’t be trusted… proving you can’t rely on others when you need it. Fuck.

“ _DAVE?_ ”

Gamzee was right. You didn’t tell him, you never could and you probably never will. Even back then, Karkat quite literally stumbled into the truth. He deserves better than this. Your mind buzz, a million thoughts racing through it. Your eyes shift to the window. How simple would it be to just leave? Drop everything and go. Nobody would have to know. Karkat would be better off without you. He could start a new life with someone better. Someone who can trust him and care for him like you couldn’t.

“Karkat,” you say, eyes fixed on the window. “You know I love you, right?”

“What’s going on?” he snaps, voice panicked. “Why are you saying this?”

“After all these years together,” you reply, rising to your feet. “I just want you to know. I care about you… and I want you to be happy.”

“Dave…” he mutters. “What are you doing?” The window slides open quickly and quietly. You easily remove the screen. You climb onto the windowsill and gaze out into the courtyard. How far could you get before someone sees you? Everyone’s inside, shooting the film. You could make a run for it. Most likely nobody would see you. Get away from the area as quickly as possible. Distantly, you hear someone on the other end shouting. Someone starts shouting, banging frantically on the door.

“I’m so sorry, Karkat,” you say, setting the phone down and climbing out the window. You turn back to the window, grabbing it from the outside.

The last thing you hear, as the window clicks shut, is Karkat frantically calling your name.

 

At some point, you find yourself sitting on a bench in some unnamed park. You’ve been walking for hours and you’re exhausted. Karkat’s probably freaking out now, but you can’t really bring yourself to care. You thought about getting food at some point, but you don’t have any money. Everything was left at the studio.

You hear footsteps slapping against the pavement but don’t bother to look up until the person stops in front of you. You grimace at the ratty shoes before turning your attention to them. Gamzee stands there, grinning down at you as a joint hangs between his fingers.

“Been lookin’ for ya,” he says. You stare at him wordlessly. He brings the joint up to his mouth and inhales deep. He tilts his head to the side and blow it out. “Ready?”

Your name is Dave Strider. You’re a famous director and screenwriter. At the age of eight, your parents died leaving you in the care of your older brother. Times got rough then, but you met Karkat. Towards the end of high school, you left your brother and moved in with the Vantas family. You’ve spent years living in a happy, loving relationship with Karkat.

Things have fallen apart though, and that happiness is nothing more than a painful memory. You screwed up. Karkat deserves someone more trusting. He deserves someone who can make him happy. You can’t be that person.  

Your name is Dave Strider, and, as you stand to follow after Gamzee, you can’t help but wonder if you made the right decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright... so, the final chapter. I hope you all enjoyed it. This chapter was a bit of a challenge for me. It was difficult to write and took forever to get from the beginning to the end, but I persevered. 
> 
> I just wanted to say, thanks to everyone who've read this far. I hope you liked reading this as much as I like writing it. I DO have a sequel planned, but it probably won't be up for a while. I'm a bit burnt out with this story, which probably as a lot to do with the lackluster ending and my struggle with getting it out.
> 
> I basically need a break from this story and hopefully that doesn't spell the end of it. I really do want to write the sequel I have in mind, but at this point it's unclear of whether it'll actually happen or not. 
> 
> Again, thanks for reading! If you wanna give me a follow on tumblr, feel free. My url can be found in any of the other chapters posted. 
> 
> Until next time!


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